Short Stories Romance

Artanabil the Book of God

"Sir, get up, yuk."

A soft voice woke me up, not only that, his hands began to slowly shake this body. I purposely pretended to be asleep so she would kiss this cheek.

"Sister, let's wake up later to hunt me down." He still hadn't given up on waking me up that morning.

Suddenly a warm kiss slid down my cheek, my lips curled happily. "Gee! Did he seem to have woken up earlier?" resounding.

I opened my eyes and saw him folding his hands on his chest with pursed lips, maybe he was upset. But her face still looks sweet.

I grabbed her hand until the slightly fat body was now right beside me. "Don't pout dong," I whispered softly.

"Bodo!"

"Later I love you more," I said, peeping at the head covered in purple hijab she wore this morning.

"Gee! Wombal keep! Not ashamed of what, the same prospective child we have in my stomach?"

"Eh, why should I be ashamed? It's me dear, "my god who finally made Khumaira's cheeks become red.

That was how he woke me up when I was about to tell and so was the way I responded to it to upset him every morning. Surprisingly, this behavior continues to repeat itself. Maybe this is how we show our love? It sounds a little chubby, but if it makes her cheeks red with happiness, why not?

We got out of bed and headed to the dining room, we were still home with our mother so I could still serve her directly. Thank God, mom and Khumaira both understand and love each other, they are compact in everything including loving me. The infinite gratitude continued to be expressed because the two women I loved were always harmonious, there was none, 'uh, whose name was daughter-in-law or in-law julid.

Until it did not feel the time of imsak had arrived, marked by the sound of sirens. It was not a fire, but the sound came from the mosque which signified that the time of imsak was over and we are now entering a fast which means not eating and drinking, not just that, he said, emotions and other things we must control so as not to reduce the reward of fasting.

"Mother to the mosque, huh?" said mother when the dawn of Azan reverberated. She was the woman who gave birth to me twenty-two years ago.

"Yes, be careful, ma'am" I said.

"I'm saying goodbye, huh, brother?" Khumaira participated with her mother to the mosque.

He kissed my hand. "Be careful, dear." I kissed her head again.

After they went to the mosque, I quickly took a shower, prayed, then got ready for work. It just so happened that today the workplace was quite far from home that required me to leave early, with my motorcycle streaking under the still dark sky. The wind hit my body which was wrapped in a jacket that was thick enough but still felt cold I guess. Hands and face that felt cold this morning. Until it is not felt, little by little it begins to change. The cold turned warm when the sun started to shine this morning. Like our future son who will warm this little family.

"Young, Veen! Have you come apparently?" asked Bang Andi who became a working partner, with his Batak accent he greeted me this morning.

"Yes Bang. How are you?" ask him because we were reunited today, after one month Bang Andi permission to return to Medan.

"Well, which wife are you on? Have you given birth, right? As I recall, his stomach was already stretched."

"No, Bang. It should be these months that she gave birth, just counting the days said the Midwife," I replied with a smile, not hiding the feeling of happiness when we would welcome the birth of our first child.

He and I got married young. Our intention to get married to worship and who would have thought, God entrusted us to be parents so soon? At the age of our marriage, which was just three months old, she had contained the seeds of my love in her womb.

"Hopefully his birth is good. Let's get to work!" bring Bang Andi while standing.

I also follow Bang Andi, we work in one of the companies engaged in CCTV production. Bang Andi and I were in charge of installing CCTV on the monitors. No doubt, our work is always outside the office.

The days are busy with this work, especially now we are installing CCTV in a new office that is quite large, it certainly takes a long time. The less time I spent with him, but still I am grateful because the blessings of Him are always abundant in my family, especially when khumaira is pregnant, the door of sustenance feels as open as wide.

"Veen! Come back, this afternoon. Later we return to the night until home," asked Bang Andi.

"yeah!" sahutku who then clean up the unfinished tools all we install.

We sped each other by motorcycle to the intersection, we were separated because of the different direction of our house.

"Be careful, you!" he said it then sped up at high speed before I could.

This motor speeding completed the journey that is still half towards home. On the side of the road I saw sustenance seekers who peddle food takjil break their fast, until these eyes saw the ice mixed their favorite. Ice that has a thick and savory sauce, between the fusion of coconut milk with milk is very appetizing, especially during fasting like now. I parked the motorbike, it happened that the queue was not too long so I could order not too long.

"Mang, the ice is mixed in two, wrapped, yes," I asked.

The seller wrapped up my order quickly. After paying, I also returned to darting happily even though the wallet was broken. To please my wife and mother, why not? Money can be sought again.

*

"Assalamualaikum," I said at the door.

"Getishalight." My bidadar. She kissed the hand and I replied with a warm kiss on her forehead.

"Old tumben, brother?" ask Khuamira.

"Yes, I bought this for you and mom." I gave the package to him.

"What's this?" he asked as he grabbed the plastic in my hand, "ice mixed?" Eyes rounded.

I nodded then smiled.

"Oh my God, Brother. This is the legendary mixed ice, it's expensive for us."

"No papa, make you happy once in a while. I'm sorry, yeah, it's just that I find it hard to buy it?"

She smiles. "To me you are a good and responsible priest. Those two things are the hardest in life, thank you for always giving me happiness, sister," he said, then poured into his arms.

Go to the bathroom to wash the body full of sweat, after that I was out wearing a towel wrapped around the stomach. Clothes are available on the mattress, after I finished I went out of the room to the dining room there is already an iftar menu, including ice mix that I bought after work.

I sat down and opened the hood at the dinner table. "Wahh .. there's rendang." My eyes sparkle because beef rendang is my favorite from small, understandably, we so rarely eat meat.

Not long after, Azan also reverberated the three of us enjoy the iftar meal. After that we prepared to perform the magrib prayer service then the isya prayer continued with tarawih.

Alhamdulillah has completed our first fast along with mandatory worship and sunah today. He and I are getting ready for bed.

"Sister" he said when we were in bed.

"Hem?"

"If our daughter is given a name, what name?"

"Emm ... What, huh?" for a moment I thought, "what about Ciara Allena?"

"That means?"

"Light, clean again beautiful. Bright for our family, clean for her heart and beautiful for her face" I replied, tucking her hair in her ear.

"If it's a man, what's his name?"

"Muhammad Artanabil Mauza."

"That means?"

"Strong, leader-spirited and wise men who have the nature of the Prophet SAW. Udah, sleep already at night, tomorrow we can tell again will I off work tomorrow," I explained to him.

He's nodding. "Assalamualaikum, My husband," she said, closing her eyes.

I kissed his head and hugged his body warmly. "Guil, Khumairaku."

***

"Veen, Naveen." There was a sound of a voice calling out which was accompanied by a knock on the door of the room.

"Khammira!" I was surprised when Arta cried. "Honey, what's wrong with you, son?" I said who then carried Arta.

"Veen, Arta why, son?" Mother's voice sounded from behind the door.

"Arta's body is hot, Mom! Just get in, Naveen didn't lock the door!" I shouted in the room.

The door opened and the mother grabbed Arta. "Oh my God, it's so hot, just take it to the hospital, please" she said.

We drove to the hospital in the car we bought a few weeks ago. Arta is now one year old. I have spent a year without Khumaira. She died of severe bleeding while giving birth to Arta. During this one year as well, I took care of Arta who was helped by mother. I watched Arta grow and develop, from the start he learned to lie on his stomach, crawl, learn to babble and now he can almost walk.

"How's my son doing, Doc?"

"The Father's son is fine, it looks like the hero wants to be able to run. I'll give you a prescription for a dehumidifier, yes, sir," said the doctor as he rubbed Arta's hand gently.

"There's nothing to worry about, is there, Doc?" many ensure.

"God willing, no, sir. It's natural for a child of Arta's age to be hot sick like this" explains the doctor.

After the examination and the medicine that was already in hand, I finally rushed home and was about to take Arta to her Mama's navel, she was currently exactly one year old.

Spur black cars sped into public funerals. Arta fell asleep at that moment in Mom's arms.

"Well, where are you going, Veen?" ask mother.

"Naveen's going to Khumaira, ma'am. Arta's age is one year today."

"Veen" said mother calling me softly.

"Yes?" answer me without looking.

"Khlaskan Khumaira, he was happy there. Remember, the woman who gave birth was martyred. In another account, from Jabir bin 'Utaik, the Prophet said:

*Shahid there are seven kinds besides being killed (killed) in the way of Allah; the one who dies from leprosy is a martyr. The one who drowned was a martyr. People who die from stomach disease are martyrs. The one who burns is a martyr. The person who died because of a building or wall was martyred. Women who died in childbirth (niphas)* (HR. Imam Thabrani)," explained the mother.

I can only be silent, some say losing my spine will be painful compared to the ribs. I think that's a big mistake, because now I feel that losing my ribs is like the end of my life.

Finally the car parked beside the TPU gate, I took Arta from my mother's sling. Jagoanku also woke up he was a little chattering when his body temperature was still quite hot.

"Arta, this is Mama's bellybutton. If Arta is missing, Arta can come here to meet Mama," I said as I extended the tiny arm to the black headstone.

"Ma-ma, Ma-ma" Arta said, revealing some teeth that had grown, smiling happily as we were in Khumaira's belly button.

Khumaira, bidadiku's. Calm down there, I'll take care of our son, Arta. You're right, Arta is very similar to me. Pray for me to guide him according to the teachings of our religion. Here, my prayers will never break for you. Be happy there, honey. May God bring us together in Paradise.

This hand rubbed a black headstone that read Khumaira Binti Al-Buqhori.

"Patience, yes, Veen. Allah is much more dear to Khumaira, be happy because you were given the opportunity to live life with Khumaira even if only for a moment. May you be reunited in Heaven Darul Muqamah."

"Aamiin ..." I cried out with tears rolling from both corners of my eyes.