The Heart Attraction Club
Do'a Mother
Palm leaves sounding noisily in the wind. The birds make cages on their bows.
Sometimes the men of oil palm plantation managers catch it by using trawlers. He said to fry after he came home.
Fastabi bought land that was formerly tin mining with an area of approximately 60 hectares at a low price. 10 hectares of greenery made with artificial blue undercarriage that is used as a recreational place that has lately been trending.
Fastabi was heartbroken to hear Rifa'i's apology about Lasti.
" I've met him recently"
" Isss" Seringai Rifa'i.
" Yes how else. The bike broke down on the road. No one helped him. So I'm helping out of pity to see her too who's tired"
" You love him?"
Fastabi took a breath. Rifa'i grimacing.
" O God, is that right? I'm sorry, Fas, not that I'm going to incite or anything. What the hell did you see of him? I want to be honest. It's a standard face, married twice. If I'm talking rudely, he's not level with you Fas"
" Have gossiped about people. By the way the package umrah family cottage children yesterday already taken care of?"
" Thank God already. Today I will meet his family again to complete the less files. They'll leave in two months if there's no obstacle"
...🌷🐝...
Mr. Muiz grabbed the envelope I thrust. My eyes widened as her curious self opened the contents of the envelope.
What was his reaction? I guessed. If I were Mr. Muiz, I would be ashamed of that childish love letter.
Mr. Muiz dehem then rubbed his face. He folded the paper and put it back in the envelope.
" Oh yes, this is a list of Fastabi's life history that was exchanged with his sister's duties. Bilal, our youngest son, sometimes banged up instead of playing" Mr. Muiz handed the sheet of paper to me.
Ogh, so switched huh?
I nodded to myself. I don't know why my heart is so happy.
This time it seems right. I peeked into the paper and found the name Fastabiqul Khoirot written there.
I swallowed spit.
Mr. Muiz wasn't that quiet for long. And I also with curiosity that is increasingly becoming-so with the sheet of paper, I was forced to refuse the offer of his ma'am to relax drinking tea with him.
...🌷🐝...
Madam Muiz came out of the kitchen in shock when she heard her husband calling. Now the task in the kitchen was taken over by him since Bik Ina returned home to celebrate his son's marriage.
" Mom, how come there's this kind of thing in the envelope that's been given to Sarah?" Mr. Muiz threw the envelope on the table "I'm sure it's not Bilal's job!"
" What the hell is it?" Asked Madam Muiz who was then curious about the contents. Heart's pounding. Afraid of new problems. He immediately grabbed the envelope.
Madam Muiz's manner instantly changed as she read the paper.
" BILAL! BILAL'S! Quickly call Bilal ma'am. Just be ashamed!"
" Well, how late is this Bilal! Forgive me for having a youngest child who is only in the fourth semester but likes to date. Where the firstborn wanted to be a weathered bachelor again" Madam Muiz climbed the stairs by stomping her feet firmly "Which Bilal was the one who put the family to shame"
Bilal opened the door of his room when he heard a rough knock on his door. He could already guess when he found his mother's sour face glaring at him at the door.
Madam Muiz twisted her ears before coming down the stairs. His father was already shaking his waist waiting for him below.
Die me! Bilal in the Heart.
His father threw the envelope once more onto the table.
" I'm sorry, yeah"
Master Muiz's breathing is hunting.
" Who's the one who sent the letter?" Madam Muiz interrupted.
" lina"
" Where's lina? Whose son?"
" Lina Beringin village here. Bik Jum's Boy"
" The Jum the masseur?"
" Yes mom. But we're not dating. I don't want to be with him anyway"
" Who do you want to be with? The same thing you're boncenging that Lina meant? What's name?"
" Do you want to be with him, Bilal? His name alone gave me goosebumps!" Read mother.
" The full name is Evita Bu"
" I don't have his full name! The Rus' boy Kelipan village is it?"
" Yes ma'am"
" Oh my goodness Bilal! You want to be with her?"
" No ma'am. He hitched a ride on my bike as I passed by. He wants to send petai fruit to our village kades buk"
" If the letter-sender Lina is jealous means you're close to her!" Miss Muiz.
" Isss he was eaten by his friends when I applauded him when he managed to hit back the opponent's volleyball"
" You are Bilal. If you ignore your education because of women, I'll call the college to disable you. Muhammad Bilal bin Abdul Muiz, the non-ak-tif-kan! Let me have your wedding with your brother together"
" Want you Bilal?" Connect father.
" Not yeah"
...🌷🐝...
As with last night, I slipped out of the room while making sure my roommate was sound asleep.
I opened the paper in a hurry. My heart was pounding as if it was going to read a love letter from a lover.
I took a breath. Bismillah.
I read carefully.
There is nothing special on that list. His handwriting was not so good. And plus a little scribble.
In the left corner of the paper was attached to his photo using a blue tie black suit. Flat expression.
He also added a few paragraphs at the end of his history list.
Hi Siti Sarah! How are you doing? Just a list of my life history that I can write. I actually wanted to get married a long time ago. But because my activities are solid so I don't have much chance to find a partner.
But to be honest every time people call me a candidate or a candidate to be a weathered bachelor. My heart is so hurt.
I'm so grateful you've deigned ta'arufan with me. May Allah bestow His power far away, near and near.
Wassalam´s.
I almost fell apart and was happy to read it. Ah, cook the heck a Fastabiqul Khoirot writes like this? Oh my God I thought he was a stiff man. He turned out to be this bad guy.
I folded the paper back and put it in an envelope. I would love to read it again if the day wasn't this late.
Tomorrow I'm going home to see my parents. Ask dido'akan.
It just so happens that my village is not far from the pesantren. While the distance of my village with Beringin village, the village of the man was only three villages.
And of course the name of the man was also as close as I heard to my village. Why not, women often tell about it in public baths, in stalls, and household.
And now even filed ta'aruf with me. Oh God, what am I really?
I slowly walked into the room. My eyes are not sleepy.
...🌷🐝...
I showed the photos of Fastabiqul Khoirot on the curriculum vitae to my parents. My mom's not playing her fun. While Bakku immediately lit his cigarette leaves on the porch of the house.
" Mom, teach me how to cook. Cook yellow spices, ground spices" My whispers are ashamed.
" That's Sarah, learn to cook first!"
" Yes mak. But Sarah can cook but not as good as mother"
" So, you want to take it?" Ask my mother to make me quiet and blush.
" I replied when he answered. Let's not be ashamed. Wait for the decision the man wants or not you just answer. Let's not be ashamed if it turns out he doesn't want to be with you" my mother continued.
" This mother, instead of ngedo'a"
" Mommy keeps praying that you will be given the best. But this is just in case too, right?"
I'm nodding. True, mother said.
🍃Connected
