Tell Your Father I'm a Muslim

Feckless

Maryam's father was sitting alone on one of the benches in the hospital corridor listlessly. He was still thinking about the condition of Maryam who was still unconscious from fainting, while the mother accompanied Maryam while her lips unceasingly chanted verses of the Qur'an for her.

A Pastor came and took a seat beside Maryam's father. The priest throws a smile.

“A waiting for a sick family?” ask Maryam's father for pleasantries, trying to start a conversation.

“My son. But the strangest thing was the pain of his love. Initially his condition improved, but because of his love he was sick again,” replied the priest.

“My child too, the disease is also not an ordinary disease said doctor.” Mary's father shared the same story.

“My son is in love with someone, the girl is not at the same faith as my son. His love is great, even though he is still a teenager, but it has been so serious in loving. Teenagers are getting weird. The doctor who treated him said that the cure was only one, love it. But anyway they won't unite.” The priest sighed nafa inside. He felt the weight in his heart quite heavy.

“Your child problems are the same as my child's problems. The doctor said so too. This is not just physical pain, but psychosomatic,” said Maryam's father who did not expect that there were others who had the exact same problem with him. He felt not alone facing it. He felt a little relieved to share.

“I don't understand how to get my son back to recovery, I feel sorry to see him.” The priest shook weakly.

“I myself have not been able to find a solution to this problem. If only the man was the same faith, maybe I sincerely to marry them,” said Maryam's father was no less confused.

“I do too. But for faith, it's already a thorny problem.”

They then both fell silent, busy thinking about the problems of their respective children.

“Happy to share a story with you, Sir. I have to go back to the room again. It’s a pleasure to meet you here. (It's nice to meet you here.)” Maryam's father shook the priest's hand tightly.

“Yeah, me too. I pray that your child will recover quickly.”

David's father did not lose tightly to welcome the position in his hands.

“Thank you, I also pray for your child. Give my regards to him,” said Maryam's father with a smile.

“Greetings also for your child, Mr.” A moment later the priest passed leaving Maryam's father.

***

David was caught in his daydream. To be honest he still harbored jealousy towards Khaled, but as hard as he could bear. He was annoyed at himself, at the hostile circumstances, at the draining problems of his energy and mind of late. His hands clenched to beat the pillow and threw it down

to the floor, trying to vent his frustration. Soon after, he cried. All David thought was one that the person 1he loved would belong to someone else, and he had just gotten to know that person.

“I don't want Maryam to belong to someone else. I'm not willing!”David's scream in the middle of his prank.

***

Khaled was still daydreaming in that garden chair, he took a small note and pen that he had tucked in his shirt pocket, and began to write something on it. A verse he addressed to Maryam. During this time, Khaled was so happy to express his feelings through the script verses, and I don't know how many verses he managed to make for Maryam, since the family meeting.

Maybe I'm too stupid to understand

Maybe I hurt accidentally too

If you knew my heart

If the opportunity had come to me

Now it's impossible for me

Even touching your shadow, I can't afford

Now I am in the abyss of doubt

And this love is so tight in my chest

I know this love is a mirage to you

But let this love I have

Let this love be my burden

I don't give a shit

Although it hinders my path

I know loving you is uncertain...

A single tear obscured the trail of ink that had licked his paper.

***

David was still in grief. His heart softly whispered in sobs.

*Tomorrow...

Pursuing you is like chasing dew to get its drops in the air, you are like the molecules I can feel but can't reach and hold.

It wasn't you who tortured me, Maryam.

But it is circumstances that force me to do so.

I died here.

I am still breathing

But my soul went and lost chasing your increasingly distant figure.

I'm fragile, I'm fragile,

Absorb Roman buildings swallowed by time, yet he remained upright.

I'm not strong, Maryam.

Should I leave you

To a place where I can no longer look you in the face, Maryam?

Shall?

But the more I stay away

And try to disappear from you

My soul is getting closer

*Tomorrow...

Look at me here!

I even lost my self-esteem

To be a man.

I'm weak

Crying and dissolving in long compassion...

How long, Maryam?

Until when...

Until the earth is destroyed

And the sky rolled

Like a roll of paper

As told in your Qur'an?

I don't want to..

David is getting sobbing.

I'm getting weaker...

Very weak, Maryam.

It was as weak as Adam who was tempted to eat the fruit of Khuldi by the devil while in heaven.

You know that story, don't you?

I want to be with you.

I want to tell you about the verses of the Qur'an that I stole from the man I really hated

But he's innocent.

I can't blame him.

Maryam, I can't forget you.

I can't afford that.

Forgetting you is like skinning my own skin.

It hurts...

I'm weak...

It's getting weaker now...

Getting weaker...

What am I supposed to do, Maryam?

Matikah's?

I think I should die, Maryam.

Let this story end.

Yeah. ends...

Because I know you weren't made for me.

Ma'am. right. un. tuk. u*...

Suddenly David was unconscious.

Along with that, his father returned. And how surprised the father was when he found his son's room was a mess with a pillow

lying on the floor.

”David... David... David... Awake, Son! Wake up..! The doctor.. Doctor..!” The body of David. He hurriedly called the doctor to check on his son's condition.

The priest was crying outside the room. His hands rested on the wall, trying to hold the groove of his body. This time he was really worried about his son's condition. The son he loved so much, though not from his own flesh. The son he had loved ever since he was found lying in front of the church gate with the skin still red.

The door to the room was opened. The doctor came out and asked the priest to speak seriously.

”The body is very weak. He's too stressed. If you constantly think about the problem, David's condition will get worse.” The doctor explained carefully. Holding the shoulders of the priest to just drain the power.

The priest was stunned next to his son who was still slumbering with an oxygen hose wrapped around his nose. His memory returned to the incident

a few years ago, when he first became a father. How happy he felt at that time, finding little David moving frisky and chattering cheerfully muttered the most terrible call in his ears: ”Dad”. A word that makes his heart shake every time he remembers it.

”Create your heart, Son. Don't weak. Didn't you want to be a superhero like the comic characters I bought you? You remember, don't you, Dave? When you were a kid, you wanted to be Superman, who helped the weak and did justice on earth. Don't be weak, strengthen yourself. You're gonna take dad flying with your red wings around the world. You promised dad. I want you to keep that promise. Awake, Son. You're the only one I have, you're my only hope, father's successor. Dad didn't want to

lost you, Dave. Don't leave father.” His tears on his cheeks.

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