Mystery of Love

First night

Everyone in my house seemed to have fallen asleep in their sleep. After a day of walking around non-stop when night comes all creatures use it to rest themselves. Freeing the tired from the busyness that occurs today. Relieving tired and tired also a sore feeling that wrestles the feet.

Silence deserted my home.

It is far different from what happened in our bridal room that there is no decoration in it but smells fragrant because of the sparkle in the heart. Growing flowers that came out of nowhere. Is it because we always take care of ourselves and now Alloh publishes details of the name of love after we tie the promise of being husband and wife. A taste that cannot be described how it exists but can be felt with the five senses.

We who are alone in the room actually want to enjoy the night in every ticking second. Drowsiness as if going away from us didn't want to come tonight. Either because there are people who accompany my sleep or because of the feeling of pounding that never normal my eyes so wide open.

I slept like my position. As for my husband, he wears his arm as a pillow and faces towards me. I am very nervous because our position is now face to face.

I started telling stories to get rid of the overwhelming awkwardness. Anything I talk about to reduce heart beat. Plus with my man's eyes staring full of puja.

I told him hours and he only answered me with a few questions. My voice filled our bridal room. I became a speaker who never tired of saying words while my husband, he was only a loyal listener. That night somehow our eyes did not go sleepy even though the night was getting late.

Almost three o'clock he just looked sleepy and started yawning.

"Come powder!" he said, stretching out his hand and grabbing my head. He drowned my head in his chest. I also follow. Sleeping on his arm with his cheek against his chest. I feel comfortable and safe. Inhaling the masculine smell of a quiet man like him. My heart and lips smiled in his arms.

It was only a few hours that we closed our eyes but had to wake up immediately when the morning prayer echoed. The dawn prayer which compels every soul to immediately return its consciousness and rush to face its Lord with a clean soul and body before it becomes contaminated with the impurities of the world.

My husband got up and took a shower and I got up and went to the kitchen to wash my face.

My mother told me to make coffee for my husband. After various theories how a wife should obey her husband. What if there is a desperate situation the first time is to ask for permission from the husband. Now it's a live practice and I feel confused. How to serve a good husband I have no idea.

There should be guidance on how to please my husband, I thought while taking a bath.

I served coffee in the room and breakfast after he came home from musholla. We ate a plate of both. Enjoy time together with storytelling. More precisely I am the one who talks a lot and asks because my husband is really quiet. If not spoken to, be quiet. If asked only a couple of broken answers.

Ms. Nurin also came that afternoon with a gift of Beker's clock for me. When I was talking to Nurin my husband told me to go to the big mosque. I made him gobsmacked. He wears a sarong, blue hem and black kopyah. In my eyes he looks very handsome . I smiled at him until I forgot that there was still Nurin there.

Is this what love feels like? Ugh ... pounding it feels.

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The next night after Isyak I unpacked the gifts from my friends. Sit on the floor comfortably and then I open one by one.

My husband came into the room after his return from the Isyak congregation at the mosque. We smile at each other when we look at each other. He immediately changed his clothes and sat on the bed right next to me while bowing his body towards me. If I had looked, our skin would have touched. Realizing that, I did not dare to look at him.

I kept opening the existing gifts and reading the letters tucked in between them. Sometimes he asked and I answered without looking at him.

There are books, calligraphy, veils, bags, towels, Beker's clock, glass, spice spots and letters praying for my wedding.

My husband suddenly picked up one of the presents in front of me. The Book of Qurrotul Uyun . He then read it. The contours of my face immediately turned red.

Haduh why there are people who give the translation of Qurrotul Uyun make me seblak-seblak only.

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I think the most comfortable and most beautiful place in the world there are the first two when prostrating and just remembering Him, forgetting the entire universe and the second is in the arms of my beloved husband. Whether being sad or angry that's where I usually lean all the feelings until happiness and comfort replace it.