Seikhlas Clouds Accompany Rain

remorse

The phone is still held in both hands. While the mind continues wild though many times he tepis with confidence if Ilyas will be fine.

Until now, when the dawn Adhan has reverberated. The woman in a sleeping robe still looks worried because there has been no news from her sisters-in-law.

Many times his trembling hands kept trying to contact Ibnu or Abaz. Of the two, no one received the phone call.

His sense of urgency momentarily appeared, but he still had to think positively. It could be that the two of them are in a state of panic so they do not have time to open the phone.

Because after an unexpected incident in the early hours of this day. Mr. Sofian, Abas and Ibn immediately rushed Ilyas to the hospital, it could be, right, they both did not bring their respective devices.

Moreover, the blood pouring profusely made everyone panic, not least Qonni who seemed to tremble when he saw the white Koko turned red on his arm.

Oh God, help my husband. I hope he's okay.

In the boisterous voice of the humble Adhan, Qonni offered a prayer for her husband, so that he could return healthy.

A mobile phone ring made him rush to say hamdalah. He hastily picked up the call from Abas's number.

"Hello, assalamualaikum, Deck." The one there greeted me gently.

Surely, Ilyas' voice immediately shed tears from the wife's netra. A gratitude filled with relief. Found the voice of the lover who may be in good condition.

"Wa–walaikumsalam, Mas. Ilyas, isn't it papa? Has the bleeding stopped? It's handled well, isn't it?"

Her trembling lips hurriedly leaned in with many questions to make the one in the other smile. Although the next split second the man who was still in the IGD bed again grimaced in pain after the anesthetic effect began to disappear.

"I'm not papa, Alhamdulillah until here I immediately get good handling. Even my wounds have been sewn."

"Thank God, I am grateful to hear it. There was Ibn and Abaz there, yes. After dawn Mother and Dad said he wanted to go straight here. I'll go straight there, yeah."

"No need, darling. I'm going home, too."

"Going home? Is it still sick?" Qonni's forehead is wrinkled. "Mas, it must be repulsive when you want to be treated, right?"

"No, sweetie."

"So why come home so quickly, if it turns out the wound is gaping again how?"

Ilyas sighed. "The doctor said he could go home. Because the wound is not deep, so Mas is allowed to go straight home. Take care of the road, Dek."

Qonni's lips spoke hamdalah, with one hand stroking his chest.

"Udah don't worry about me. What matters is that I'm okay. Sorry too, I just got a scratch. I also don't have HP. Ibnu also did not bring, fortunately Abas brought it. So I can go to you."

Qonni fell silent, his other hand raised occasionally wiping away the tears. The same fear he felt when he lost Aaron. Really, he was expecting nothing at the moment other than the return of the bespectacled man in a fine state.

"Sir, Adhan, right? Are you praying?"

"Not yet, Mas."

"Yes, pray first. Don't worry about me. Really, Mas it's fine."

Both Qonni's eyes blinked. Clear threads. She reflexively nodded even though it was invisible to her husband.

"But really, right? Is it papa? Did the doctor really confirm?"

"Hiks.., I actually do not want to cry, but wherever I want to be afraid of you why-why," he murmured while wiping off the trail of tears with the waywardly continue to pour, he said, to make the ones there again chuckle. "Keep now what?"

"Sitting while waiting for Mr. Sofian, Dek. If the business is gone, we go straight home. But Mas also wants to pray first, his intention."

"Then I wait at home. Be careful, Mommy."

Ilyas touched his thumping chest. Longing to burst, when only a few hours he was gone. Maybe because Qonni's worried cry to her made his heart full. The feeling of wanting to hold his body was very strong at this time.

Greetings were heard from Qonni's lips, as the conversation ended using their respective devices. The woman with her long hair was unceasingly giving thanks as her hands placed the phone on the table.

His steps slowly approached Nisa who was still fast asleep after a few minutes ago awake.

"Alhamdulillah, Son. Abi is not papa..Abi will be home soon." In the kiss cheek Nisa for a while, before finally rising up about to perform dawn prayer.

....

In Ilyas's position, the man was pensive with a smile etched on his lips. His eyes were straight down on Abas' black flat object.

The curtain before him blushed, Ilyas' gaze then turned to a middle-aged man who entered with a look full of regret.

The silence in this action room accompanied the two. Sofian sat in a folding iron chair, right near Ilyas' bed.

Breathing sounded, the middle-aged man continued to avoid the pair of eyes belonging to the glasses man.

"Why should you sacrifice yourself for the treasures of my world?" ask Mr. Sofian lirih.

Both of his hands were between his legs. The arrogance that has been shown for some time is not visible anymore. In addition to guilt and concerned about what the young man experienced.

"But you don't have to close the gate and fight it with your bare hands. Lucky only to be hit by a knife. When we get to the prick?"

"I know I'm very rash. Because what I thought was the thief was not to take something that was not his right," replied Ilyas. Sofian also looked over.

"Why don't you scream?"

"I'm kasian, if the thief reaches the residents."

"You feel sorry for criminals? He doesn't look like you. Look, your wounds are..., does he have pity? It should have been a criminal beaten if it needed to be burned alive."

Ilyas. His hand slowly rubbed the bandaged-covered arm.

"I remember a Tale— at that time on the battlefield. Ali Bin Abi Talib was ready to cut off the enemy's head. But immediately when the enemy spit in his face. His sword-wielding hand was already trembling, furious in his chest rumbling. Even though only one slash from the sword will immediately make the enemy killed. Butwhat? He lowered his sword again, Ali ibn Abi Talib did not kill him."

Mr. Sofian shook his head, looking at the serious face that was slightly bowed to the tile floor below.

"Lantas what made Ali ibn Abi Talib release his enemy. For the previous intention was to kill the enemy because of Allah, changed because of his wrath after being spit."

Ilyas' head lifted, returning towards the middle-aged man who was sitting nearby.

"In that situation I thought, if I screamed the past and finished him to death let alone burn him alive. I'd be scared to death, sir."

Suddenly goosebumps with his own words, he actually thought about the fate of the thief after being caught by the citizens. The shadow of persecution that was done in groups like he felt back. Pain because it was beaten without a pause to make his head feel heavy.The man was privileged while touching his head.