Longing Curtain
Episode 1's
"To you I bow down, to you I ask and to you I give up my life"
.
Dawn had hidden its form, changing with dusk changing its position. Emitting rays that can make the eyes amazed at beauty. The wind blew as if giving greetings to the recipient. Half whispering near the ear of 'Click it up' made me realize something.
My name is Azzahra Anastasya. Born in Bandung, March 19, 2002. My brother's name is Fahmi Fadilah, my mother's name is Mirna and my father's name is Deni. I still have a student bench at Garuda High School class 11.
I looked at every corner of the mosque. The place where the story begins with a smile ends with a farewell. The place that bears witness to a story full of joy and tears is now just a memory. So much joy is in this room and now empty in his absence.
"Zahrah! " a gentle swipe on the shoulder resuscitates from my long daydream. Immediately I turned to look meaningfully at her with a smile that adorned her beautiful face.
Brother Bela, he I have considered like his own brother because even when he was down he was still loyal beside me, giving the spirit to continue living. He was also the older brother of the person I had admired before, exactly one year ago.
" Sister Bela, it's been a long time?" ask me a little embarrassed, the article was in pergoki when I was daydreaming about things that are not important.
"Well anyway, why was it ?" tanyakanya.
"No," I said briefly.
"Come on, it's time to pray" I nodded, following his steps towards the mosque.
The voice of Azaan echoed the call to fulfill the obligation for Muslims has been chanted. Calling his people to immediately worship the almighty asking for guidance on his way of life. The voice of iqomah gave the sign when the prayer was carried out.
The Imam also guided his worshipers to perform the obligation of the Mahrib prayer. Prostrate to ALLAH asking for forgiveness for all sins that violate the rules. I lived every movement of surrendering myself to the divine. Melting my sin by saying your name, always pray for my parents to always stay with me.
Tap Tap Tap!
The sound of footsteps rattling the ears called me to know who the owner of the footsteps was. There was something turbulent there like the same feeling as 1 year ago.
I immediately dismissed the strange thought of continuing the prayer movement that had been abandoned due to the sound of footsteps.
Assalamualaikum warahmatullah's
I turned my head to the right while saying my greetings and vice versa. Linking both hands begged for my prayer to be answered. The first greeting from Bela's right hand immediately I grabbed it and kissed it briefly. Likewise with other pilgrims greet each other after the prayer to strengthen the silahturahmi.
My mind came back forcing me to think hard to know the owner. I stared ahead, a tall man sitting cross-legged in the opposite direction to me. Wearing a white cocoa shirt complete with black city box sarongs and peci that perched sweetly on his head.
I slightly tilted my head looking clearly at his real face. An unsupportive position makes it difficult to see it let alone covered by other pilgrims. He slightly tilted his face thin mustache and thick eyebrows made me estimate something.
Astagfirullah!
My reflex was holding my chest, my heart was racing twice as fast as usual when he turned around showing his face. My feelings are raging between happy or otherwise because he is a person whom I have been calling in prayer but in fact does not correspond to reality.
Brother Sharif, I call him. Although impressed presumptuously contact him first but that's what I thought at that time. And now that I realize that there is no point, my efforts are never countered. Let alone in reply to a greeting never.
Now he has his college education in Jogja, although he does not know very well where the place has given me a little explanation. The news was also faintly vague I heard from others. Intention to ask directly I paused, because I believed he would definitely never reply. Once when I sent a message to him, he replied one month later it became clear until now.
"Zahra why are you?" I turned to the source of the voice, looking questioningly at him.
"Why didn't you tell me that Brother Syarif came home today?" ask me to the point.
"Aren't you asking me why I told you?" the answer.
"It's also no matter what I decided to stop," I said lowered my head.
"If you make a decision do not rush later regret youh," said Bela.
"But this is according to the evidence, brother Sharif has no feelings what to Zahra," I said.
"And we do not know the contents of the heart of people in front of him, maybe later his feelings change," he said.
"Maybe. But Bela did not tell the story to Brother Syarif? Don't tell me what, brother," I said in a pleading tone.
"No, just calm down" he replied. I breathed a sigh of relief. " But my sister didn't promise" he added. I scrunched my forehead.
"We will not know what will happen in the future so for now brother does not promise. But insyallah brother doain yes," he smiled.
Ar-Rahman's letter made me turn away from my warm conversation from Bela's sister. It is still the same person who taught me to read the Qur'an as a child, Brother Sharif. One by one the verses are read with the correct law of tajweed with almost perfect reading. The meaning of this letter of Ar-Rahman has many meanings explaining how God created the perfection of the universe. But often we deny the favors that he gives and do not appreciate what God gives. Karna has a meaning that means not a few people who make the letter of Ar-Rahman into their marriage dowry. So imagining when Ar-Rahman's letter will be on the day, my mind is too long. Not time!
The letter of Ar-Rahman has ended. Subhanallah, I am amazed by your creation, O ALLAH.
Tense that I felt, face to face with a fairly close distance made my breath slightly beheaded. Not daring to look him in the hazel eyes. Just twist the end of the game while cursing in the heart.
"Zahra what are the members' financial administration reports?" bela began the conversation.
"Well" I said a little nervously.
"Well, as no one has seen "the baritone's voice greet me, I look up doubtfully at him.
It's true what he said. I haven't seen the data clearly just concluded unilaterally. Immediately I picked up the documents that were next to me but it was hard to find.
"You looking for this ra?" Imron gave me the file. He was one of the members in charge of overseeing the financial administration just like me and Bela. I opened the file reading it carefully.
"So far as our spending is normal, our income this month has also increased. So next week we can conduct counseling according to the proposed plan," I said.
"Have you made sure there's no excess funds?" brother Syarif looks at me making nyaliku squeak.
"Sister, everything is in the data. Starting from the place, consumption, and also other things have been in such detail. God willing, there is no additional funds" I looked at him he nodded.
"Can I borrow the members' money?" the question successfully made me turn my head as well as Bela and Syarif.
"What's Imron doing?" my many.
"I need it once," he said. I can see his sad look but I don't understand why.
"Sorry Imron, he did not refuse but the funds have been used for events next week and other activities. If I can personally borrow it," said Bela.
Imron's face turned red, his hands clenched beside the body making me slightly shudder in horror. I don't know what happened but I hope nothing bad happens.
The night began late in the month had almost reached its midpoint. The night air seemed to pierce into the pore gap of my body. Fold it and put it in a bag and take it. But just a step towards the door of my movement stopped to see Brother Sharif who was reading the Qur'an solemnly. How lucky the woman who gets it someday surely she is able to guide her life companion to Janah.
"Don't tell me you want to wait for me?" my many. Looking at Laila who was standing next to the door holding her phone.
"Some of it in the code is insensitive," he said briefly.
"Hehe, understand," I scratched the nape that wasn't itchy. Laila just flicking her lips must be sulking this.
"Your expectations are rather high, ra, can it be realized?" abugn. I nodded knowing where Laila was going.
"So from that being too high and probably never going to materialize, I decided to stop. He's kind, kind, generous maybe it's not worth it to be with me who's full of these flaws" I said.
Uhuk!Uhuk!
Reflexes I looked to the right. My mouth was a little open in disbelief at what was in front of me right now. Laila also did the same must have been surprised to see Brother Sharif already standing in the doorway. Is it possible that he heard all my clear talk about him?
Oh my god I'm ashamed!
I looked at him flat my mouth shut no conversation only a blank stare. Her flat expression made me act like she was behaving. Without aba he stepped away towards the mosque. Leaving me in front of the door.
"Is it possible that Brother Sharif heard our conversation?" laila asked in a whispering tone.
"He either hears it or it's not free. He's insensitive to the person" I said casually. And stepped away from Laila.
" Ra wait!" Laila equalled my steps.
Today was the first time I saw him in 2 months. It was not special anymore because I decided to stop admiring him. Although it had crossed my mind to restart a story that had never happened.
