Owner of Heart #1
Chapter 1
This is my story in search of true love.
(Keyza Mahari)
Ciwidey, August 2013.
“Free we are high school and smart if our knowledge is not beneficial to the crowd, free we are rich but our property we only use for fun. Better we live simply but our lives benefit others.”
Those are the words of my father who made me a humanitarian activist on the sidelines of my college schedule as a student of interior design at one of the universities in Bandung. Keyza Maharani, that's my full name but everyone calls me Kekey, except for someone I met when I came to one of the villages in the Ciwidey area that had a landslide. He called me “Za”.
When I asked her why she didn't call me like the others, she asked back.
“Is there a rule that everyone should call you Kekey?”
Shocked? Yes, at that time I could only be shocked to hear his question, ok! To be honest I thought maybe he'd be a bit of a crunch like any other guy who would give a standard answer that is because it's his favorite nickname for me, which of course would just keep me away from him.
“No,” I replied after being silent for a while.
“Do I break the law by calling you Za?”
I again raised an eyebrow hearing her question, before finally answering, “No.”
“Are you angry that I called you Za?”
“No, of course not.”
“So you don't mind?”
I was speechless looking at him who was also looking at me coldly without expression as usual, “No.”
“So?”
I raised my eyebrows again confused.
“So…?"
“So why do you ask, why do I call you Za if you yourself don't mind.”
Oh God! I was really out of words at the time and really wanted to rub his face using dishwasher sponge, for he was handsome if I didn't have a wire to wash the butt of the pot! He still looked at me expressionlessly as if he was waiting for an answer. Ok! I can't lose against a Sergeant, remember I'm also the daughter of a retired TNI. I quietly catch my breath before finally looking back at him.
“Is there a rule that says I can't ask why you called me Za?”
For a moment I could see the shock on his face hearing the same question I asked him earlier.
“No.”
“Do you mind if I ask you about that?”
“No.”
“So?”
“So…?"
Now it was his turn that raised an eyebrow and I could see the look in his eyes showing that he was holding back a smile.
“So why don't you answer my question, if you don't mind that?”
He was silent for a moment before answering my question.
“Because there's no special reason, isn't your name Key-za? so I think Za is also one part of your name.”
I was silent for a while before I nodded in understanding, and the answer made sense.
“Ok, I understand,” I said before leaving to rejoin the soup kitchen preparing lunch for refugees and volunteers.
“Za!”
I stopped my steps when I heard him calling my name.
“So, why are you asking?”
“There is no special reason, I just want to ask,” I replied casually while walking back.
That day was the 4th day we were in the village of Tenjolaya, a village located in Pasirjambu, Ciwidey, Bandung, to help and distribute assistance to the victims of the landslide there. Honestly, we are very tired physically and mentally, we only sleep 2-3 hours every day because of conditions that make us unable to really rest.
Not to mention the number of victims who have not been found to make the atmosphere there full of anxiety and also sadness that affects the feelings of volunteers, who for a long time seemed to be emotionally attached to the victims. Of course, this should not happen, because volunteers are also tasked with entertaining the victims so that they can continue their lives.
“Key, help mums chopin vegetables to make asem vegetables, yuk!” take Mira, one of my volunteer friends.
“Ready! Where are the others?” ask me after seeing that my seniors and other friends are not in the public kitchen tent.
“Teh Vita, Kang Pajar, Agus ma Yuni again teach the children in the Village office, if Teh Dian had gone with Kang Adit nyari gas, make the stock afraid to run out, and, Bang Kamal ma the others are already on the way to the location of Bantuin SAR team same TNI find other victims.”
I nodded in understanding, and we joined some of the mothers who helped us prepare food. We all sat on plastic mats and started working on what we could do. Mothers tell each other about people who have not been found.
“Yes Allah, hopefully sing hinggal kapendunya (hopefully meet, pity),” said mothers who wear yellow flowers negligence, I forget what his name is, I forget, who gets the word amen from the others.
“Kamari ceunah tos kapendak deui 12, but sad saha wae da broken mayitna tea (Yesterday he said he had met again 12, but do not know who aja because his body was damaged).”
“Innalillahi wa innaillahi rojiun, what is it? (Who are you?)”
That's a handful of everyday conversations that take place in refugee camps that are still talking about the victims that are still not found. The landslide occurred early in the morning when all the new residents were awake and getting ready to do their activities when a rumbling sound was heard before the hill collapsed, sliding into 30 houses and 60 houses a soul on the hillside.
Residents who began to suspect immediately scattered to save their lives, but unfortunately some of them are too late to save themselves who were finally buried in the ground in the state alive. Before the disaster, the village was a very beautiful tea plantation, where the local people made their living by working as tea pickers.
“Key, I saw you talking ma Mas Yudha yes?” Mira asked curiously, I could see a mischievous smile adorning her face. But actually I can tell that Mira is trying to distract the mothers so that they briefly forget about the tragedy that befell them.
“What's? That's the most mode you can just chat ma him.”
“Anaan anyway, Mir, I met him on the road just want to come here, because awkward yes I was just a fad.”
“What does he have a girlfriend or not?”
“Engga ih, shy aja.”
“Ciee, shy when mah want.”
“Apan anyway, engga ah, his people judes it.”
“Lah! Don't know if you also judge .” Mira laughs to make the mothers now start to be interested in our conversation.
“That handsome Yudha Mas yes, Neng?” asked Ma Aan curiously.
“Iya, Mom, the handsome rich artist it.” I just smiled at Mira's response.
“Wah if it's mah atuh, Neng, I also like.”
“Tuh, Key, rival ma Bu Aan.”
The sound of laughter started to come from the mouths of the mothers and it made me a little relieved.
“Yes, if the rival is Neng Kekey mah, I give aja.”
“Not defeat Bi Aan mah but fear the same Mang Aep.”
“Tah eta, right, Cu (Nah it's real, Cu) bad oruh if the Father tambek, moal kabagean ration kanke (not going to be part ration entar).”
We laughed again at the words of Ms. Aan, that's the mothers in any condition when it comes to chatting still champion. What else is it that picking up things like this makes them even more. Mira and I slowly left the gathering of mothers whose conversation is now increasingly taking place with laughter accompanying their conversation. We looked at each other with a smile of relief because for a while they would forget their sadness and loss.
“So, what was it?” it seems that Mira was still curious about the question earlier.
“Nothing matters, I just ask why he called me Za instead of the other rich Kekey,” I replied as I put the piece of salted fish into the hot oil. The lunch menu this time is, salted fish, asem vegetables, sambel sama fried tempeh, delicious right? Hehe.
“Certain what he said?”
“He said nothing, because my name is Key-Za.”
Mira laughed when she heard me.
“He really is.”
“Emang.”
“Like yes, Key, same her?”
“Come, Mir.”
I replied without looking at Mira for fear that she would know my true feelings. Ok, at first I did not believe in the term love at first sight, but unfortunately, I had a weakness when I saw men in uniform, especially soldiers, he said, they'll look twice as cool as the original in my eyes.
Likewise when seeing Sergeant Yudha Adipati Pratama (Aaahhh!! Even his name sounded cool to my ears), when he first saw him he was just wearing an army green shirt with his signature striped pants complete with black boots, he said, his body was drenched in sweat and soiled by mud in some parts. But somehow at that time he looked very cool in my eyes, maybe because there was something wrong with my eyes or with my male type?
Of course not! It was evident when in the afternoon we met again with the Sergeant and at that time he just finished bathing, the seniors and fellow female friends of volunteers were made to gap with sparkling eyes staring at him. Hahaha, that proves that my eyes and male type are not wrong at all.
“Be careful, Key, he said that the soldier is a playboy, many girls because they often move.”
“Ah, if it depends on the person times, Mir, the proof is that my neighbor is the Beno who is unemployed a lot of girls, and Dad remains loyal to Mother even though Mom is chatty.”
“Hahaha, actually oge anyway (True also anyway).”
Ok, now I'll introduce my family a little. My father is originally from Yogyakarta, a retired TNI who thank God is still given health so he can do activities by doing small business with his friends, My mother is a native Bandung mojang and ordinary housewives who like to cook and channel his hobby by opening catering in our house located on Jl. Bima, Padjadjaran-Handung.
I have two older brothers namely Kak Dimas, my first brother who has worked in one of the BUMN companies, is married and now lives in Semarang. Mas Juang is my second brother who will continue his father's profession as a member of the TNI who is now studying at Akmil. The last Dirga is my youngest brother who still sits in the 2nd class of SMAN 2 Bandung.
That was a brief introduction to my family members, next time I will introduce them further, but for now I am excited to introduce the Sergeant to all of you hehehe.
Speaking of the Sergeant, he was very irritable when talking, he said that it was not important that he was lazy to talk. For almost a week in Ciwidey, it was probably our longest conversation. Usually he'll just call me when there's a need, like…
“Za, can request drinking water for those on site! Thanks.” He left without waiting for my answer.
“Za, can you ask please get me a P3K box! Thanks.” He left without saying where I should take the P3K box, so I had to go around looking for it and finally found it under a guava tree helping a child who fell from a tree, fortunately, the wound was not severe.
“Za, can step aside a bit! Thanks.” And as usual he went straight away after I shifted to give him a way out of the tent where the refugees were.
But it makes me feel more curious about him, in addition to my busy volunteer I will look for the existence of a strong high-bodied figure with sunburned brown skin, and secretly I will smile when I see it even if only a glance. During this time he was more in the landslide location while I was in the shelter, especially the soup kitchen because of my duties as a consumption section.
But when it's time for lunch or afternoon when the SAR team, TNI members and volunteers return to the shelters to eat and rest. It was then that I would secretly search for her figure, just like this time when everyone had returned for lunch, but I found her figure nowhere.
“All have returned here right, Bang?” askaku to Bang Kamal, the field coordinator in charge of the disaster this time.
“Not yet, some SAR team members and TNI members are still on site, taking care of the newly met corpse,” replied Bang Kamal while bribing his credit a full spoonful, “Why?”
“Engga, just afraid of food running out, would pity if anyone is not part.” I was looking for an excuse that Bang Kamal seemed to believe my reason.
“It's our last day here, tomorrow team 2 will come to replace it, so today we have to finish the job as much as possible so they do not keteteran later.”
Between being surprised, happy to be able to go home but also disappointed because it means I can no longer see the Sergeant, I just pretend to smile while nodding in understanding.
That day I did not see the Sergeant returning to the camp, until at night after I finished praying, I caught a glimpse of the dried up ground clinging to his body and clothes. I quickly folded my face and came out of the tent that served as the impromptu prayer hall, but it was too late that I had lost track of it.
*****
Haiii... new story, new nuances and atmosphere, hopefully all like yes 😍💗A.K💗
