Still waiting for you
thirty three
" Ameena teesya, in the ten minutes before my Adhan, I will keep my promise under the permission of my Lord and your parents."
Deggs!!. I raised my face. From where I sat, I could see Nature sitting on the pulpit in the mosque. How is this?, Sentence of Nature is not a question, but a statement. That means, there is no chance for me to answer let alone refuse. I saw Nature stepping down the pulpit, along with the warm embrace I felt on my right-hand side. I turned my head alternately, it turned out that the mother who held me on the right side with tears, she kissed my cheek repeatedly. While on the left side I found Maryam gently rubbing my arm with her stuffed stuffing.
How could they both be here. Just this morning I took a break to go with Alam and bang Amar, Alam said mom and maryam will follow in a few days because there are still many agenda that we will do on the trip later. And I guess, our goal in Jogja is to reply to the proposal while determining the wedding day. Turns out I was wrong, what, the hell, means all this. I'm not involved in anything at all. What do they think, because I'm a spinster, so they think I'm in a hurry to get married.
My restlessness that lingered under my tears that did not stop creeking, I could not let it drag on. I straightened up as Maryam thrust out a sheet of tissue to wipe away tears and snot, which made my face even messier.
"Wear this, yes, I help you." Maryam thrust a piece of cloth, which I knew served to cover the face.
"Bang Alam wants you to wear a niqob after being his wife." Maryam gave an explanation after seeing my confused expression. I just nodded in response, as the sound of someone from the microphone made my chest rumble, and could only focus on one point of sound. I let Maryam put up a niqob to cover my face, and then put on socks for me.
" Ananda Muhammad Alamsyah, before the second of your love, my daughter Ameena Teesya was taken care of with all her body by her mother, from her prayers, her clothes, her food, her actions. And with his mother's permission, I shook your hand to be seen by hundreds of worshippers inside the mosque. Promise me, my son, as terrible as any storm you will face, hold my daughter's hand. Don't let him be swayed by the storm that is coming. Continue his mother's duty, to deliver our daughter safely to his paradise."
My hands clenched firmly over the thighs, let out cold sweat that caused her to tremor, I bowed my head deeply, closed my eyes, a roar of roar in my chest that grew stifling. That voice, which is none other than my guardian, my mother's husband, whom I once called my father proud. For years we have not met. Again, Nature gave a surprise far beyond my reasoning. How could he bring father to this event. I just never knew where he was all along.
"Bismil was bornrohmanirrohim, with permission and ridlo of father and mother. I, muhammad Alamsyah promised to love and take care of Ameena teesya according to what Rosulululloh has taught to his people."
Alhamdulillah 'ala kulli
"Bisilbornrohmanirrohim, ya muhammad Alamsyah ankahtuka wa zawwajtuka makhthubataka bintii Ameena teesya
'alal mahri suroti rohman, wa tsamaniyah wa sab'iina dinariin haalan."
"Qobiltu nikahaha wa tazwijaha 'alal mahril madzkur wa rodlitu bihi wallohu waliyyut taufiq"
"Huh?"
"AH!!!"
Collapsed already, a rumble in my chest came out along with the close embrace of mother, One word "right" perfectly changed my status from a girl belonging to parents. Being a husband's wife. Where ever since the status of my wife, then the order of my baktu also changed. From the beginning of God, Rosululloh, mother and father. Turned into God, rosululloh, husband, mother, then father.
Who am I, O Allah, this feeling is like a round tofu, the momentum is impromptu.
My cry changed into an arch of a smile behind the veil I was wearing. The wet end of the veil bears witness to how precious this sacred moment is. Ibuk did not stop pronouncing hamdalah since the word SAH in echo. Despite the confusion and curiosity by the background of all these surprises, in fact the smile remains etched without permission.
The melodious chant of the sound of the Adhan echoed by Nature, managed to turn this room into a silent, rumored hundreds of lips laden with question marks over the implementation of this sacred moment, which is, change with the rustling sound of the earthy tap water.
I haven't moved from my place since I first occupied it. Because only from this can I see Nature who is a priest praying ashar. Clearly caught by the tail of an eye, a middle-aged man stood right behind Nature, who was still deeply attached in memory, how warm it was to sleep in her arms. Yes, he was my mother's husband, who was none other than my father. Mother told me to keep a thousand questions crammed into my mind, she told me to wait until Nature herself told me.
It would be inappropriate if I asked him here, especially about the father. It won't be enough to explain in an hour. So I followed my mother's advice to wait for Nature herself to explain it.
I saw that Maryam stepped closer to me, she had taken off her face, I realized that today Maryam uses a robe and hijab. He looks more elegant with a lylac dress that wraps neatly beautiful body, with a pashmina hijab color of soft pink that is associated with origin but actually looks cute.
"To the mosque yuk, time to meet the husband." I just nodded and set foot towards the mosque with Maryam holding me on the right side.
I feel like a crooked goat tied around my neck and according to where the owner goes. Maybe if this time Maryam told me to dance on the terrace of the mosque, I would be happy to obey.
Alam was standing next to the Amar bang, waiting for me with a big smile in the middle of a very magnificent mosque building.I kissed his hands reverently, this was the first time I made physical contact with Nature. his palms are so soft for a man's size. Nature's left hand touched the top of my head while muttering the do'a. while her right hand was still in my hand.
Bismil was bornrohmanirrohim, Allohumma inni as aluka min khoiriha wa khoiri ma jabaltaha 'alaihi. wa a'udzubika min syarriha wa syarri ma jabaltaha 'alaihi.
sobs came back to me when I heard Nature reading the do'a. My shoulders shook slowly holding back the crying in order to get under control. Nature pulled my hand to raise my face, and then both hands moved to my shoulder. In the kiss of my old forehead, a drop of tears dripping over me, crying is it?, is this my cry?. God is so beautiful the way you bring us together.
Robbana hab lana min azwajina wa dzurriyyatina qurrota a'yun waj'alna lil muttaqina imama
