My wife's been misguided

Fariyah amal

That morning, while having breakfast at the hotel restaurant, Dr. Ahmad invited a discussion about the recommended therapy for Om Surya. After consulting with the oncologist treating in Jakarta, he suggested cryopterapi combined with chemoradiotherapy.

"To increase life expectancy. About healing, the probability is very small," he said lirih.

But the problem is, Om Surya rejects all types of therapy. He chose to focus on preparing himself to face God. It's like letting yourself die slowly. It's ridiculous!

"Yes, there's nothing else to do, right?" Nesya.

"There!" I don't agree, "Didn't Ahmad's doctor have two types of therapy combined?"

"But it's just time, what's the point?" Nesya made an argument.

"Isn't that what we do all the time?" Doctor Ahmad folded his hands in his chest, waiting for the continuation of my words.

"meaning?" Nesya asked impatiently.

"Do you know how much time you have? Again delicious absorption gini, can you sprain continue to die. All we're going through is extra time at all times" I said slowly.

There was no reply from Doctor Ahmad or Nesya. Both of them were silent, not knowing what they were thinking. Well, isn't that what I said? at least that's what I think every human being does. It's all about extra time!

Damn it, I'm rich being forced back again and again into the past. This original makes the chest sesek and head heavy. That night I ran away from the school. His permission to the toilet, originally flowed into the mosque. Go up to the second floor terrace further to the roof using the stairs of the builder. There, I closed my eyes and jumped free.

I thought I could die that way, it turned out to be on ustadz who happened to pass by. His body crumpled under the weight of my body Segede gaban. Forgetting how many bones to repair due to fractures and cracks. While I was just dizzy plus shocked to be alive and clearly breathing.

People say, Good thing my body was slashed, good for bumper. And fortunately also his body Mr. Ustadz is not thin as well, so just the same fractures doang his bones. But the rich times are called profit? Mr. Ustadz had to bedrest for weeks because his body could not be moved.

Original, at that time I felt very guilty. While crying, I apologize to him. Mr. Ustadz was just a whimper and said, "Maybe that's why Allah guided ana to the mosque earlier, so that ana could nolongin Antum."

I was getting more and more shocked that time. Why did God try to save my life at the expense of Mr. Ustadz? This is not fair. Why are innocent people suffering?

Continue with the rest Mr. Ustadz. "Antum is young. There is still much that Antum can do to be a helper of the religion of God. Don't waste this opportunity."

Finally I was desperately, bloodily enduring in the sacred prison from that night. Let the body be full of bruises, every day slapped, I accept everything. For what? In order to reduce guilt. For all those who are called sins and rewards.

Fortunately, it finally broke. Now you can use your time more useful. To help the lives of others. Anyway, I still feel, life is just a matter of extra time from time to time. Doing good can be anytime and anywhere, not just in the holy prison.

"There are many things that Om Surya can do if he can add time. Imagine the company policies that can be determined, how much can be helped. I think this extra time is worth fighting for." I added my argument to make it stronger.

"But it is useless if the rest of the time is only used for therapy," Nesya argued, "Dimension is used for added reward."

Wrong, the logic is wrong if applied to the people of Prophet Muhammad SAW.

"Nesya, we're all dead. All practices will be interrupted once we die. You know what will keep flowing his reward even if we die?" Nesya knitted her brows not understanding. "Finger!" Jiah, did I come out the real me? Alhamdulillah the rest of the stock of ancient lessons is still tacky.

"So if you want to increase the reward, you should add charity, instead of self-interest continue to worship yourself. That rich practice will end once life is over."

"What's wrong?" Nesya back nanya.

"Amal jariyah is all we do for the sake of others. As long as the person benefits from what we do, then as long as it is also the reward for us."

Nesya Mangosteen. "Wake up the mosque, is that it? As long as someone prays there, we reward it, is it?"

"Well! Pinter!" Excitingly happy.

"Sorry, you're wrong" Cibir Nesya, "I'm a genius."

Fuck up! "Yes, I'm very much insecure about your genius" Reply and Nesya immediately blushed.

You can imagine, genius girl blush. That's how it makes the seven layers of heaven and earth, coy!

* * * * *

Doctor Ahmad finally tried to persuade Om Surya again. He agreed with my argument, the life of the leader of Angkasa Group is worth fighting for. Not for himself, but also for the many people who enjoy the benefits of this company.

I'm the same Nesya waiting outside. Standing side by side, looking at the city of Banyuwangi from the big window at the end of the corridor. It was only ten o'clock in the morning, but outside the sunlight it looked very hot. Even the window glass is warm to the touch.

Nesya crossed, looking far through the glass. His eyes were nowhere and his face looked tired.

"Are you quiet this morning?" Now it's my turn to squint at his nape.

Nesya rejuvenate lightness. He just found out about the greatness of my fingers.

"Is that why I keep maintaining the CSR project even though the make funds are too much so that we can not nyimpen make an emergency backup?" Nesya asked softly while grimacing slightly holding back my massage which was actually very soft.

"It can be." I can't answer too long and that's the only safe answer.

Nesya leaned her head on my shoulder. His breath was softly blowing richly who was again trying to let go of the burden.

"You think.." He said again, "Do you think I should help you take care of the company, huh?"

Geez! The boy finally realized. "Yes!" I replied with excitement and no thought.

Nesya's head was suddenly upright again because I changed my position so straight facing him and gently gripped both shoulders.

"Nes, that's a great idea, though,! I'll say the same Om Surya, let the power of attorney be transferred to you only!" Iyes! it's called a gift.

Doctor Ahmad suddenly stood in our Deket. From his face it can be guessed that he did not manage to convince Om Surya. Ah, dammit!

"Try me who said," said Nesya suddenly.

Nesya went so far and went into Om Surya's room, leaving me and Ahmad's doctor who could only look at each other.