Love Me Mas

PART 16'S

You were the one who promised loyalty. No other heart can be an estuary. I'm the only one, you say, the love that keeps you breathing. With me you dare to wade through the universe and pluck the leaves of twilight until unfolded.

Then you asked for a pause. I give you though miss so torturous. Sure enough, your move didn't come back. Only the afternoon breeze passes through conscience.

Later when you feel enough, come back. A few questions have bloomed in my head.

Happy you? Have you found my replacement? When I waited for you to not come, now I'm happy you brought a million memories.

"Ndukk the water is already boiling" the voice of mother spread daydreams.

"Milk Jih"

I prepared breakfast for Mas Hasan, leaving early this morning, because there will be a seminar also where he teaches.

"Sir, later if Mas came home a little afternoon gapapa right?"

"Njih Mas, later Mai also wants to go to the budhe house, has not been there for a month now if you miss"

"No need, you're just being used"

"Njih Mas" actually I want to whine, but yasudah alone dawuh. Mas hasan hugged me tightly, kissed my forehead and hurried away.

Suddenly I remembered the plastic that Alin gave me yesterday, where did I keep it? wasn't yesterday still in the closet? but there is nothing. there is only a sarong and interpretation then what about the letter. O Allahh lest Mas Hasan have taken it.

"Beck, ibukkk"

"What's up to ndukk ko yelling"

"Have you seen the black plastic here mboten?"

"Yo black plastic is a lot of nduk, yesterday there was a plastic nduk on the table but just as your husband is difficult to throw in the trash" I was stunned to hear mother's answer.

"Where is buk?"

"Yes in the back of the house, emange ono opo to nduk?"

"Mboten nopo-nopo buk"

I went straight behind the house, but there was nothing there.

"Madosi nopo to ning?" ask the vegetable seller.

"Niki wau wonten sik ke ting tah garbage"

"Wahh yo has been taken by truck earlier at dawn to TPA (Final Trash Disposal Place) same exchange"

I immediately lemes, if Mas Hasan threw it away, he must have read the letter, he must also know what it is and from whom, but why did Mas Hasan not get angry at all? this morning he hugged me.

Drrrrtt..

my phone's ringing.

"Dikk later Mas there is a seminar in Jogja, you come? all pilgrimages are the same as the streets"

I did not reply, I was still afraid, afraid if later asked about the letter, but if I did not come what would it be? I can't hide anything from my husband. Ahh maybe it's good that I should be frank.

I took the ablution water to prepare for the duha, to pray that everything would be fine. If my race to Kang Taufiq still exists, please blot out, O Allah, You are the one who turned your heart back.

I tried to contact Alin, hoping he could take me to where Mas Hasan was.

"Ciiin"

there is no answer .

"What Mai? I'm in Salatiga again, I happen to have another show.how?"

"It's okay lin kangen aja hehe"

Because Alin can't maybe I just take the bus, Temanggung-Magelang distance is also not much. I don't want to bother Mas Hasan to come back and forth to pick me up.

***

It wasn't even 10 but the sun was already burning my skin. The bus driver on the street was already vying for mercy. 5 minutes later the bus had arrived, I rushed up.

"Where are you going" asked the bus driver.

"Ohh this to Magelang sir"

The passengers were so crowded that there was no gap for me to sit, I saw a little boy with a black peci, and a glove and a big bag crying so much in the corner of the bus, I approached him.

"Mad can sit here"

just nodding slowly, while being as bothered.

"Your name is who you are"

there's no answer.

"Have you eaten?"

there's no answer.

I took the stuff I was supposed to give to Mas Hasan.he took it, his eyes were still wet, his eyelashes wet, then he finished the stuff I gave him, looked like he enjoyed it.

"You go on a hut, don't you? where's the?"

she was crying even harder, people around me looking at me as if I was the one who had made her cry.

"It used to be mbak also mondok, in Tahfizdul Qur'an at that time was 8 years old, still class 2 SD, Mbak did not understand what and how. Yahhh at that time could not feel banished, the father and mother mbak to Kalimantan complained of fate there, after 3 years they came home and Mr Mbak who left again but until now no news, no news, have been sought many times in the workplace that used to be, but did not meet, which can not be yahh just pray"

"That means the bed has been a long time, huh? in prison kok krasan?" I laughed at the boy's question, but I was grateful that he seemed to enjoy my story.

"This mother is married now, are you not krasan dik?"

"No, I have almost a year in the cottage, there the food is not good, if the bath must be queued first, if sleep was just a little time, it must be on the floor there is no mattress only carpeted."

"Ohh so that's why you don't krasan dik"

"Not mbak, but I miss Molly"

"Who is Molly? your sister?"

"It's not like he's my brother hehehe"

I could barely help laughing.

"You're all there, if the lodge has begun to pay what dik?"

he did not answer and began to tear up.

"I hate to teach mbak, I can't ndak njai. it's been a year I go to the cottage but still najai Iqro' continues, I want to go home, I want to find grass just for molly"

"You know not the story of Ibn Hajar? " he just shook his head .

"Do you want to tell a story?" he just nodded.

In ancient times there was a scholar named Ibn Hajar Al Asqalani, he was originally a stupid santri. He studied to his kya for several years, but he could not read and write, until he finally gave up. He asked himself to be allowed to go home. With a heavy heart the kyai allowed Ibn Hajar to come home, but he advised not to stop learning when he got home.

Finally Ibn Hajar returned to his home. On the way, it rained heavily, he was forced to take shelter in a cave. Because the rain did not stop, he decided to go deeper into the cave so he could sit in it. At that moment there was a gurgling sound. Out of curiosity, he came to the source of the voice.

It turned out that the source of the sound came from the gurgling of water dripping on a huge piece of rock. The large stone was hollow because it had been exposed to water droplets for many years. Seeing the hollow stone, finally Ibn Hajar pondered. He thought, this large and hard stone is long hollow just because of this water droplet. Why did I lose to a rock? Though my mind and mind are not as hard as a stone, it means that I have less time to study.

After thinking so finally Ibn Hajar did not go home, he decided to return to the cottage. His spirit grew back to learn. Finally, Ibn Hajar returned to the cottage, wanting to study longer and more diligently. At the cottage he studied diligently and diligently and did not know despair. That effort was not in vain. He became a pious man, even able to make some books. From the origin of the story of the stone in the cave, this is then he was given the name Ibn Hajar (Child of the Rock).

Source: Book of Al-Qur’an Hadith For Madrasah Ibtidaiyah Class 6.

She cried after hearing my story.

"Sir I want to go back to the cabin again, I'm not going home"

"Your cottage where is it? Want to take you?"

"In secang mbak Al hidayah secang"

Finally Adit and I got off the bus, then looked for another bus that was headed to the second. The cottage is not so far from the highway, it is very easy to find it.

Seen the magnificent building with sturdy self, the paint is green typical NU, the sound of nazdoman chanted santri, in front of the fence is clearly listed PONDOK PESANTREN PUTA PUTRI AL-HIDAYAH.

"Have Mbak Mai delivered?"

he just nodded.

"Well, whose nanny's name is on?"

"Abah K. H. Hasan Bisri if his son is named Gus Taufiq"

Like being struck by lightning, could it be that what is meant is kang taufiq? God, why is the world so small.

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