
I don't feel like time is passing by too quickly..
Traaaangg. tang..
Such is the sound of old school motorcycles belonging to the father, a satsuki brand motorcycle that was famous in the 80s. The hereditary motor belongs to the great-grandfather of kakung, which was handed down to the Mbah kung, then now given for the mating capital of the father before the father proposed to the mother.
Many memories of old school motorcycles, every era is full of stories that accompany the sorrow of our extended family in making a living, until finally the motorbike is only able to drive a few tens of kilometers. If it's more then it's going to be smoke in the engine.
I left my job to approach the father and the man Santi who just came. I kissed the back of my hand after my father parked his favorite bike and closed the body of the motorbike with a raincoat.
"Assalamu'alaikum son, it's been crowded.many who come to study together turned out." Said the father while looking at the crowd where we gathered to study together.
"Wa'alaikumsalam, ngggeh sir, many who come because it looks directly from the outside, trus Pak Ilyas also had time to shout invite children who are passing by to join the study also 😅." I answered while grinningly flaunting my rows of white teeth like an Open-Up toothpaste ad.
"Same father of Santi's bulls wants to be made to drink?"
"Father of water, son"
"Bulek don't need Wan, it's going straight home. It's noon, pity mbahTi later no one helps dry the rice."
Bulek was immediately parting and did not forget to thank the father and nitip greetings to mother.
I immediately get water for my father, after the departure of Santi's bullek.
I immediately gulped down the water in the glass.
"Alhamdulillah, thank you son. You continue to study there, I want to go to the rice fields, pity your mother who has taken care of her own rice field this morning. Greetings to Mr. Ilyas yes, thank you for being willing to help teach you and your friends." Said the father while showing his face to be seen by Mr. Ilyas.
"Pak ⁇ ️, kulo pamit riyen, continued teng rice fields. Monggo sececaaken ngg."
("Sir, I say goodbye first, want to go to the rice field. Please consider your own home.")
("Okay. please sir, be careful there.")
Such was the brief conversation between the father and Mr. Ilyas.
I then went back to where I was sitting earlier and started working on matters, occasionally I also asked Mr. Ilyas if there were any questions I did not understand.
Did not feel already entered the time of dzuhur, sounding bedug adzan dzuhur in tabuh. We all packed up and said goodbye to each other kissing the hand of Mr. Ilyas while saying thank you for being accompanied by learning.
After everyone had gone home to their homes, I cleaned up the trash and rolled up the mat. I was helped by Warti, but I had forbidden him to help me, because it was noon, Warti must also be tired. But it seems that Warti did not respond to even help me clean the glasses and kettles, as well as the dishes used where the food was served earlier.
After cleaning everything and put the mat back in place. I went to the booth to wash the dirty glasses and dishes. Warti still helps me bring them to the kolah.
Haisshhh this kid, that's it. I brought 2 windows for our seats while washing the glasses and dishes. Warti I just told him to sit quietly without helping out for fear that he would get wet and dirty.
Warti is a rich kid, because he has a car. The size of rich or poor lies in the vehicles they own. Understandably if you already have a car means Wes sugeh (already rich). What else every year they always umrah.
Sometimes I feel a little bad if Warti often visits the house, afraid that there is a reason with the child, because our house is not as clean as their big house and covered with granite. The walls are also layered with painted tiles.
Unlike jauuuuuhh once with the condition of my house which is still based on plaster without ceramics, most of our walls are still woven bamboo. The lights in the room are also only from oil lamps. I call it an uglik lamp because the flame is uglak-uglik (meliuk-liuk) if exposed to the wind.
"Just sit here, don't help. His clothes get wet and dirty. Pity later Warti scolded the same mama Warti loh, such as when that day that Warti came home with mud because he came down to the rice field looking for kreco."
It looks like Warti nodded her head and sat sweetly on the window I gave her. He watches everything I do. Sometimes he seems to want to help but I immediately prevent.
.
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