The Ojek That's My Soul
Five years ago
🌾Parents are not always right.
The child is not always wrong.
Is there no saying that says,
"**Take kindness, even if it comes out of the chicken's ass. "
🌾**
***~~~***
"Well, lonyot is my noodle, ah! "
pekiknya, immediately he turned off the stove, then looked at the instant food nanar that had been curly form, but now it was not too curly.
Then Rojali poured it forcibly into a bowl that was ready with the roof.
Want to be thrown away dear, redundant his name.
But it also makes it not tasteful.
Rojali went from the kitchen to the living room, where there was a long sofa and a table.
Then he placed the bowl containing his dinner on the table.
After he placed his butt on the sofa that looked worn, his head turned to the right and left.
After he found the thing he was looking for, he pressed it down and lit up, a 19-inch square box in front of the young man.
"Get's watch the ball ah,
let the tone be a step, "murm while pressing the small buttons on the remote in his grasp.
After being satisfied to change the television channel for a few seconds, which in fact makes the noodles in the bowl more blooming and the sauce shrinks.
Somehow again apparently, it is very difficult for the author to describe it.
The young man whose long hair was only tied in half, and only wore the t-shirt and sarong cloth.
Then lift both of his legs up on the sofa and fold them.
He also began to eat his dinner with shahdu, while occasionally his sad netra was staring at his favorite broadcast, on the convex screen.
Occasionally he seems to stop the feed, because it is fixated on the chase scene and the snoring, because of a round object that rolls in the middle of the green field.
For a long time he seemed to be stuck, his eyes empty now.
Then he looked like he had blinked a few times.
And wipe the ends of his eyes with the back of his hand.
He looked at the bowl that was almost finished.
Then just put it on the table a little rough.
He rubbed his face rough, then held his head with both hands.
"Why is this what I got, from studying the teachings of the prophet MU O God?"
it was so slow and a little choked.
"This miss tortured Ali mak! "
"Ali kangen mom's cooking, "
"Ali kangen in the same jewer mother,"
"Ali kangen a chatty mother, who again nagged, her babbling exceeded a thousand words, "
he nodded with a small stuffing.
(Ehm, could be the author of that mother.)
(Sstt, diem deh, sad again too! )
Now his eyes are glaring at the flashback, which occurred five years ago.
Where he saw the tears and sobbing of a woman, who had taken him out of her womb.
Strugglingly.
Because, thirty years ago, Rojali was born in a breech.
Alias ass first.
How could he understand the mother's struggle?
Because when she gave birth to Rojali's younger sister, the situation was exactly the same, and Rojali happened to accompany her mother, replacing the father who worked outside the city.
It was Rojali's age, about eleven years old.
Rojali remembers how the woman defended him, from the father's rampage.
Just because he did not want to continue the business that was pioneered since Rojali was a baby.
"Basic children don't know how to return the favor! "
"Lu in big until this big, not to volunteer with the cave! "
hardik a man of about fifty years old.
"Sorry Ali Sir, "
"But Ali..., "
"BUG! "
Not yet the young man gave an explanation to the father who was burning with anger, but a slap and punch, had landed on the face and stomach of the child.
A short curly-haired woman ran over screaming, seeing her only son fall down.
With blood flowing from the nose and lips.
"Do you want to kill our son, huh?! "
she shouted with eyes glaring sharply at her husband, who was still trying to control the roar of his hunting breath.
"Shouldn't you give birth to a son of dissident like him! "
"Are you aware, your struggle gave birth to it in vain? "
"Look at him, let's see! "
Shouted the middle-aged man on the face of the wife who was kneeling while hugging the child.
"I never once regretted giving birth to her, "
"Never, "his partner held a sobbing at the end of his throat, staring at the child who was wiping the blood that was endlessly flowing from his nose.
Maybe his bones are broken.
The two Netra met each other, staring wistfully, slicing, penetrating up to the deepest recesses of the heart.
Middle-aged woman who still looks the strokes of her beauty, despite the age of the five heads.
Now, she got up and approached her husband, who was still standing with sharp eyes and clenched hands.
She gently held the fist, and one more hand, was used to stroke her husband's shoulder.
"Talk carefully, sir, "
"Don't let your emotions rule you, it'll make you regret it later, "
lure it full of tenderness.
How hurt and hurt he was, watching two proud men fight each other arguments .
Until it ends up hurting each other like this.
Although it is seen by birth, the father is the one who hurts the child by beating him, but deep inside, the father also feels a great heartache.
His heart ached because his expectations of the child were beyond his expectations.
He is sick, because it must end with injuring the child as an emotional outlet for his disappointment.
Therefore, it would be nice to throw the child away, rather than hurt him again.
Although the decision is about the hard wife and also the only daughter.
But they could not do much, as they still depended on such arrogant men.
**
The clock on the wall of the living room, showing the figure of 2.30 wib.
There was a young man sleeping on the sofa, tightly hugging his own body.
There was a faint sound from the burning thing before him.
The appearance that often occurs, the habit of this young man, who can not be said young anymore actually, who fell asleep while watching television.
He stretched his body, turned to the left, then turned to the right again.
Trying to find the most comfortable position, until...,
"Bruges"
"Ough, "
"My waist, "
Rojali hissed while fumbling at his waist and buttocks in agitation, as it suddenly landed in a hard place.
"Kenape all sleeping on the sofa dah ah, "
He tried to get up and sit back on the sofa, collecting the rest of his life that was still flying.
Rojali looked up and saw a round object with a circle of numbers and needles.
"Alhamdulillah, I jatoh from the sofa fitting so much at this hour, "monolognya while getting up, taking the bowl and glass scattered on the table and moving slowly to the kitchen.
He forgot his inner upheaval last night.
Go to the bathroom, thaharah and istinja then ablaze.
(In the science of fiqh, istinja is cleaning something (defiled) that comes out of the qubul or ***** using water or stones and similar objects that are clean and holy)
(While thaharah is sanctified to remove all impurities either in the body, clothing or place of worship so that the prayer and worship of a Muslim become legitimate.)
Rojali intends to perform the sunnah prayer in one third of the night or commonly called tahajjud.
He will tell everything to the giver of happiness.
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