Malay Romance Zaman Now
32. Workings
Shamed of being unemployed for a long time and aware of the advice of his mothers, Rama finally decided to find work on his own, he came to Pasar 26 Ilir. In a market not far from the rusun complex, Rama repeatedly visited several los and stalls. They all do not need employees. There was a field peddling fish, exactly what his mother had once offered, but he did not want to. In the afternoon, Rama continued to explore. And finally the owner of a confectionery store is in need of employees. “Twenty thousand a day, fed given, want?”
Although Mang Cik Mamat's stature was somewhat antagonistic, but his heart was white. His stomach was swollen from eating a lot.
“Besok you came in the morning, six.”
Huh huh? Giiilooo.
“But this afternoon you started working, brother. You have goods in.”
Rama sat and smoked. And he gasped when he saw the pick-up car approaching the store.
“You're afraid to go inside, Dik!”
Dozens of boxes containing instant food and drinks were carried, carried, carried, fortified, and then arranged into a store.
“Now you hit those things, keep a record. Continue to meet buyers who come.”
He doubles all kinds of jobs here, except one, which is to be a manager whose job is only to give direction. Sometimes he asked Mang Cik Mamat about the price of goods traded. Here Rama is taught how to serve customers well. Mang Cik Mamat said, there should be 2 S: Smile and Sapa.
In the afternoon, everything paid off. He received a meager wage. Wages for half a day of work. Rama came home on foot. And before passing through the market gate, right in front of the pempek store had Khadijah Cheque, Rama stopped for a while. He wants to go home with his mother. And his tiredness paid off when he saw Nyayu who was sitting sweetly in the store. Rama is approaching.
“Rama, stop by first. Last Check Molek just got back.”
“It's almost Maghrib, Yu. I'll just go back. Tomorrow stop by.”
“Ya. Careful, Ram.”
“Assalamualaikum.”
“Wa’alaikumussalam.”
After crossing the street, Rama stopped near a cart selling toast. Rama knew that his brother liked chocolate, but the money in his pocket was only ten thousand. A chocolate-flavored toast costs twelve thousand.
“Taste of pineapple only, Kak.”
Rama arrived at his house.
“Where are you from, son? From this morning you came out.”
Rama opened his shoes. “Rama. In Market Two Six.”
He did not need to re-question because he believed in his son. Rama sat down near his father. He told me about his work experience on the first day. He rubbed Rama's head sincerely. “Pass there, son, keep praying.”
Rama knocked on Ayu's room door. “Dik, Brother there is something for you well.”
“What, my handsome brother?” With a sigh Ayu opened the door.
“Burning bread.”
“Wah, definitely the money given by mr.”
“That's Brother's wages today, my sweet sister.”
The next morning Rama woke up early. After the dawn prayer, he was ready to go back to work. Raden Muhammad was surprised to see his son relaxing while sipping black coffee. Raden Muhammad smiled. It's only half six.
The morning air is fresh and ready to welcome this day with enthusiasm. Mang Cik Mamat just opened his shop.
“Mang Cik, sorry nian, I'm late.”
“You're not late, brother. Come here help Mang Cik.”
After opening the store and preparing his merchandise, Rama cleaned around the store area. Dumping garbage into a trash can not far from the store.
Activity in the market began to slow down. But no, suddenly his mood became rumbling. From a distance Rama saw there was a cute girl hooded.
“Nyayu..,” hisses in disbelief. Rama quickly fixed his hairdo that was messy and draped with sweat and oil on his face. And, Nyayu stopped right in front of that sweet shop.
“Buy sago two kilo.”
Rama let out a cough of jaim for a moment. “Sagu, not all of you? He-he.”
“You're here, Ram.”
“Much nian buy here. Don't-don't, because I want to see me yeh?”
“Ge-er.”
Rama weighing sago. “His song is two kilos.. hm.. his love... two tons.”.
“Raaamaaa..”.
“There are no stalls in heaven?”
“Hm?”
Rama watched Nyayu's body. “Herup is bidadari dak winged. I thought winged.”
“Aih, you're here, Ram.”
“I just found out that there is a TransMusi bus headed Kahyangan-Palembang.”
Nyayu is not struggling.
“The formula...the angel is more beautiful than I imagined.”
Nyayu is flinching.
“Niyu sell pempek also in kahyangan there?”
Nyayu still looked down. But secretly he glanced at the right foot of Rama who had been jolting his heels. A kind of style of a clever market-bomber who spills a cradle.
“Tangkasan nian today can meet bidadari molek. Wear the veil again. Oh, fascinated by me.” Rama gave him the bag and Nyayu paid for it. “Besok-tomorrow to here again yeh.”
“Wa’alaikumussalam. I'll play to kahyangan.”
His mind is divided in two, between college and work.
He imagined there was Socrates before him now and said to him, “Job first, just hope.”
After that it was as if there was Plato who was squatting right in front of his eyes while saying, “People have fun to like fatigue due to work.”
After the two philosophers had passed, Aristotle appeared while sucking red bean ice, then advised him wisely, “Help at work puts perfection in work.”
Complete already. So Rama took wisdom for himself to be better. Citius, Altius, Fortius—faster, taller, stronger. Suddenly the words that had been thrown by the number one person in the Republic who had previously served as Governor of the DKI now flashed in his mind.
Work... work... work!
***
Rama immediately returned to 26 Ilir because Nyayu had invited him to pray Maghrib in the breach that was there. Keeping in a punk suit, he said goodbye to his mother and father. While on the road, the Maghrib prayer rang. He increased his walking speed. After taking ablution, he immediately went inside the breach. The pilgrims who were there felt strange with the appearance of Rama. They think Rama is a newly converted hooligan, or insyaf thugs, or new punk kids can be inspired, even worse they suspect Rama is a stressed person. They judge all of that from the way his clothes look inappropriate for prayer.
Rama folded the narrow end of his trousers so that his eyes were exposed.
“Jok, flooded?” chirps of a blue-gloved man.
“Fabric that is long under the eyes of the foot where it is hell.”
Another man wearing a white cocoa shirt with a mocking cry, “Omongan your father, Jok?”
“That was the Prophet's talk. Bukhari's History. That hadits shahih.”
The blue-gloved man came back to grin by whispering, “Punk boys can also lecture.”
Iqamah. Rama prayed in the front shaf. Not far behind the priest. He tried to be solemn during worship. After the prayer, he recited himself by omitting his reading. While other worshippers recite together and make a loud noise.
Rama's out of the breach. He saw that Nyayu was waiting for him.
“At home I just learned to pay.”
They both walked on Mujahiddin Street. Yellowish rays from street lamps make their shadows appear on the asphalt.
“How come those people that pray, recite, and pray like to make a loud noise, even almost like shouting? Our Lord is All-Hearing, All-Knowing, and our Lord is near. So we don't have to make a sound. Our Lord is deaf. I hope God guides us all.”
“Amiiin,” Reply Nyayu.
Nyayu held a mat and invited Rama to sit down. Rama looked around. There is Arabic calligraphy, and there is not a single photograph or image of a living being, be it a human or an animal. From this Rama knew that Nyayu understood the values of religion, because angels do not want to enter the house on the wall there is a photo or picture of such, unless there is, if there is, a, the image of the creature's head must be removed.
Nyayu who was also accompanied by her college friend sat down like sitting on the final dowry. A little far from Rama. He gave the holy book to Ramah.
“We're just talking, Yu. It's not good if any of us teach each other. Besides, I might as well teach college kids like you.”
“But notice the way I read, Ram. If something goes wrong the length is short, advise me.”
Rama nodded. “You used to read.”
“You first.”
“Ah, I'm so good dak, Yu.”
“Dak nothing, Ram. You just read.”
Rama opens the Quran slowly and says ta’awudz. After reading Basmallah, Rama read Surah Muhammad. And Nyayu listened solemnly to every soft reading. So Nyayu drifted away in the strands of God's word and his soul trembled until Rama completed a full surah.
“What did your mother say, Ram.”
“If the praise can make me more diligent worship, nothing, but if it makes me riya’, do not you talk like that, Yu.”
“Iapologies to me.”
“Tak what. Now it's your turn, Yu.”
“You'll pay again. I'm ashamed, Rama.My voice is ugly. I can't nian naji.” yet
“There are smart people who claim to be smart. Don't talk about it if you can't. Later the talk can be prayer.”
“Ra.. maaa.”
As Ram continued to tell him, Nyayu finally opened the Quran and read Surah Muhammad as well. But Nyayu only read up to five verses.
“Why stop?”
“I'm ashamed, Ram. You're the only one who reads.”
Until the Adhan Isya reverberated, then Rama stopped his reading.
***
During the day, for example Nyayu did not visit to buy something at the store where he worked, surely Rama took a walk around Pasar 26 Ilir just to see and chat with Nyayu. One afternoon, after college, Nyayu brought sweet iced tea to Rama. When dusk arrives often they talk in Jeramba Karang Park while looking at the passing vehicle. Bored there, they walk on the sidewalk of Merdeka Street, enjoying the end of twilight while looking at the Sekanak River.
“I give advice to Mang Cik Mamat to fix his wagon that already smells of soil. Or better replace the new one. Because it's hard to push it.”
“I sometimes get upset with lecturers who rarely enter. Though, it has been difficult to go to college, far away, but the results obtained catechism.”
Rama also said that he had two close friends, who both had dreams of having a famous punk band. Nyayu happily listened even though she did not understand a little about punk music. Nyayu tells about the psyche of someone who is influenced by the genre of music that is loved.
“You mean the guy is hard.”
“Peetic hard man.”
Nyayu laughing. “Rama, if you knew the future, would you change it?”
“All written. If God predestines from beginning to end, it is His will. And even if God tells us to choose, that is also His power and will.”
