The Pledge of Love Embroidered Heaven

CHAPTER 11. Love Claps Next to Hands

The clock keeps on rolling following its circulation. Similarly, life is like forming a pattern. Seconds repeat every minute, minutes repeat every hour and hour repeat every day, days repeat every week and the same date will keep repeating every year. This is how human life seems on earth.

We never know when it will end. Could it be that man was born into the earth as an early part of life and could it be said that one was at the last point when that person was already dead? It's so weird to think about all of that.

Does God always swear by time? Allah swears by the name of time in different editors, first, Allah swears by the time of dawn (QS. Al-Fajr:1-2); second, Allah swears by night and dawn (QS. At-Takwir: 17-18); third, Allah swears by the time of dhuha and night (QS. Ad-Dhuha:1-2); fourth, Allah swears by night and day (QS. Al-Lail: 1-2); fifth, Allah swears by twilight and by night (QS. Al-Inshiqaq: 16-17); and Allah has sworn with al-ashr (by time) (QS. Al-asr:1).

If God has sworn an oath to time, then it is necessary for man to think about how time came to be and why God created it. Time is created because of the movement of objects in the sky, which is due to the shifting of the sun in the universe, while the earth surrounds it.

The sun, the earth, and the planets are God's creation. God has arranged and run everything as it should so that there is no collision between one object and another. If so, of course, there is a purpose and purpose, so that people can use time properly and appropriately for their interests and affairs, both in the world and in the hereafter. The time we pass will be passed back as before. Every day we would meet the same morning, the same afternoon, the same night. All the time that God has given to man will have an answer.

The sound of a sliding door hinge is enough to cause momentary noise. Azzam closed the door of the mosque after performing the dhuha prayer that morning. He is indeed as much as possible trying to take advantage of free time to carry out sunna worship. One of them is the dhuha prayer, which he often performs when the break reads, after which he only resumes his duties and obligations in teaching and learning activities in the classroom.

The tasks of the students seem to be stacked on a table that is not so broad. Azzam again continued to check PR or practice assignments given to his students, before the doorbell rang. There's 35 minutes left.

Ms. Lydia suddenly appeared on the sidelines of Ustadz Azzam was correcting the problem. He placed a box of cookies on the table of Ustadz Azzam.

"What is this, Ma?”

“Oh, it was a cake that I had bought earlier before leaving for school,” replied Bu Lydia while throwing a smile at Ustadz Azzam. “Because I was in a hurry earlier so I did not have time for breakfast, then I just buy a cake for breakfast,” continued Bu Lydia.

Ustadz Azzam shifted the position of the box containing the cake he had just given earlier, towards Bu Lydia. “Then this is for Ms. Lydia only.”

“No need, Ustadz. This one is really special I bought for Ustadz, which I was at the table,” said Bu Lydia, pointing to his desk which was only three tables away from the table where Ustadz Azzam was sitting.

A smile curvature formed on his cheek. “Oh so. I don't think you should bother. It's the umpteenth time Ms. Lydia has brought me food."

This is what Bu Lydia always awaits a sweet smile that emanates from the face of Ustadz Azzam who looks always glowing maybe because it often runs sunnah prayers in addition to fardhu prayers.

“Ah, ordinary, Ustadz,” the answer is timid.

After receiving the cake given by Bu Lydia, Ustadz Azzam resumed his duties to correct student training. But, Lydia's mother still hasn't left Ustadz Azzam's side.

“Sorry, Mom. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Ustadz Azzam asked that because he saw that Bu Lydia was still beside him, afraid that Bu Lydia was in need of something, only he was reluctant to start.

“Hmm, Ustadz if we have lunch together how?” tawang Bu Lydia's.

Azzam shifted his sitting position about forty-five degrees from his original sitting position. “Sorry Mom, instead I want to refuse sustenance from Bu Lydia, it's just that I have brought provisions. Fear if I eat with Mom, my food becomes redundant only.”

“Wah, I think very lucky who will be the wife of Ustadz, it seems that Ustadz does not like to eat food outside and only loyal to foods that are typical of home-made products.”

Ustadz Azzam only responded with a wry smile.

“But, Ustadz can only do this once. Ustadz accompany me to lunch." Ms. Lydia, still trying to persuade Ustadz Azzam to obey her request for lunch.

This time Ustadz Azzam was silent, not knowing how to explain to Ms. Lydia about her current life, if she was married. How can he walk alone with another woman while he already has a wife. He remembered the words of Nisa so as not to tell people first about their marriage.

“Why Ustadz always refused if I take a walk together or just join to eat, like this for example,” Bu Lydia tone disappointed.

Ustadz Azzam took off the black-framed glasses he was wearing, presumably the chatter this time has begun to be more serious.

“Because I can't, Mom."

“Ustadz like can not appreciate women's feelings.”

The words of Ms. Lydia so enough to make Ustadz Azzam surprised. ‘Yes Allah, have I hurt this woman. Forgive me yes Allah’ Inner Ustadz Azzam.

“Sorry, Mom speaks so. What does it mean?” azzam asked, not understanding.

“Today I often invited Ustadz to join lunch, go home together, but Ustadz Azzam always refused me. That means Ustadz has no intention of appreciating my feelings, right? Just the same Ustadz Azzam hurt my heart as a woman.”

Ustadz Azzam put on a confused face and frowned. But, he still continued to try to understand the feelings of the woman who was standing in front of him.

“Bu Lydia, if indeed my treatment and words have offended Mother a lot, I personally apologize. But really, from my very heart there was no intention of me hurting and offending Mom."

“Ustadz Azzam know about my feelings to Ustadz? Or, so far Ustadz was deliberately to pretend not to know?”

Ustadz Azzam was silent.

“Means, Mom?”

“Honestly all this time I put more feelings and attention to Ustadz Azzam. But it seems that Ustadz is too silent and cold.”

Women today are more aggressive and courageous. Are these signs of female emancipation. Actually Ustadz Azzam knew that Bu Lydia was put feelings with him, only he chose to be quiet and not too pubris more attention given by Bu Lydia to him. So that as much as possible he keeps the attitude with Bu Lydia.

“Bu, Bu Lydia has not known me. Out there are still many better than me.”

“How can I get to know Ustadz, if Ustadz itself never gives me a chance to get to know Ustadz more closely? Or, Ustadz already have a heart with other women?”

Ustadz Azzam smiled in response to Ms. Lydia's words.

“If Ustadz is not pleased for me to eat with, please for my question this is answered!”

Ustadz Azzam let out a heavy sigh, presumably beginning to look uncomfortable with the way Bu Lydia was impressed to suppress him.

“Which obviously there is indeed a beautiful and good woman who already occupies the space of my heart.”

“Who is he, Ustadz? was he also a religious expert like Ustadz? even if it were the criteria women Ustadz wanted. I am ready to change my behavior for the better like a woman Ustadz.” criteria

Ustadz Azzam smiled as he was accompanied by a headband. “Then, actually the way Bu Lydia has been wrong, we should want to change ourselves to be good from before is indeed intended from the heart because God ta’ala. That what we do may be sincere and may be rewarded by God. But, if it is done so that it is well seen in front of others, it becomes not good.”

“Alright then, thanks for the short answer and talk, Ustadz. Means all this time I misjudged Ustadz's feelings on me.”

“I'm sorry, Bu Lydia.”

Without answering anything else, Ms. Lydia walked out leaving the teacher's room.

After Miss Lydia left her. Azzam then took the wallet out of his pants pocket, slowly opening the black wallet. He then pulled a piece of 3R-sized photo that was deliberately folded and tucked between his identification cards. The wedding photos of the two of them, Azzam with Dhanisa. Azzam smiled faintly looking at the picture of the wedding photos of both of them. After enough, the photo was folded back and tucked between the sidelines of another card in his brown wallet. Back Ustadz Azzam struggled with the task that was still stacked in front of the table.

Ms. Lydia who came out of the teacher room seemed to be in a hurry and almost hit Dhanisa, who had just arrived at the doorstep of the teacher's room about to hand over a bunch of Fiqh assignments handed by Bu Afifah, her homeroom teacher.

“Ma-sorry, Bu.”

Ms. Lydia just passed by without replying to me. Seeing the look on Ms. Lydia's face that looked sad and grim, was enough to make me confused. ‘What happened to Bu Lydia until she looked sad?’. However, I do not want to think too much about it because there is still much to think about besides thinking about other people's affairs.

I walked down the desk by the teacher's desk looking for Ms. Nafiza. There are not many teachers in this room. Maybe some are in a meeting to discuss the preparation for the implementation of the national examination of third-graders. My eyes unintentionally shot towards Abang Azzam who turned out to be on his desk as if he was correcting the answer paper sheets of his students. However, I paid no heed to it because I came here just to find Bu Nafiza and deliver the task she asked me to.

I'm still looking around for where Miss Nafiza is, why don't I see her in this room. Finally I put some of the task books in my lap, and walked to the school kitchen and it was true that Ibu Nafiza was there, I saw himself stirring a number of drinks in the tray quite a lot.

“Assalamu’alaikum, Ma'am,” my sap.

“Wa’alaikumsalam. What's the matter Nisa? How are the books collected?” asked Bu Nafiza while stirring a few cups filled with coffee and some containing tea drinks.

“Already, Bu.”

“Yes thank you, Nisa. If you have time, I will teach for a while. Only after that permission, I have a business for a while.”

I'm nodding. “If there is no more, Nisa excuse us to class first, Bu.”

I turned around to go back to class again, only about five ceramics that I stepped on, the voice of Bu Nafiza echoed again calling me. Immediately I stopped my steps and turned back my body. “What's up, Mom?”

“Mother ask for help again can ya?” ask Miss Nafiza. “Please deliver this drink to the board of teachers who are meeting in the office yes,” pinta Bu Nafiza.

I agreed with Ms. Nafiza's request, after all I might reject her. It is not my heart to see that Nafiza's mother who was pregnant had to deliver that much drink. I carefully raised a handsome glass filled with rows and rows.

“Then I say goodbye to deliver this drink first, Bu.”

“Iya. Be careful yes, Nisa.”

After five minutes, I went back to see Ms. Nafiza in the school's soup kitchen. To deliver some of the remaining drinks on a white tray.

“This, Bu.” I pushed back the tray. "But there are still three more glasses left" I said as I placed the tray on the table.

“There's still the rest, huh? Means the excess of the drink that Mother made earlier. Then rather than wasted, please take you to the teacher's room, Nisa. Give it to the teacher who is still sitting there.”

“Good, Bu.”

In my heart actually my feet are very sore, going back and forth from the common kitchen to the office, office to the soup kitchen, the common kitchen to the teacher's room. ‘Aw! Nisa sincere! must sincere’, my mind tries to accept.

In the teacher's room I only found, Mr. Chandra, Mr. Lazardi, and another Ustadz Azzam. ‘Pas-lah! indeed the remaining drinks are only three more in this tray’ mumbled me. I casually walked up to them, and the last I saw was Ustadz Azzam. Without speaking a word I put the drink on his desk. Then leave immediately.

“Nisa?” the voice of Azzam called.

With a sense of laziness I finally had to turn back my steps towards the table Abang Azzam, but a little more I reached the front of the exit of the teacher's room.

“Thank you,” he said briefly.

I grumbled in my heart. I came all the way back here just to listen to my thanks! sucks!

Finally I just returned the words with a forced smile. “Iya both. If nothing else matters, Nisa wants to go to class.”

Brother Azzam nodded.

“Nisa,” call it accompanied by a wave of hands.

I haven't taken ten seconds, his voice calling my name again. This time it feels like my patience has run out, I am really furious about it.

“What else, Ustadz?” I was annoyed, but in a slightly discouraged voice afraid that the other teachers would hear my slightly disrespectful tone.

“Abang forgot. It's a cake from Ms. Lydia just for the brother just because the brother ate. So this take it for Nisa.”

Without a second thought and lingering, I picked up the box cake that Brother Azzam had given me.

“Already, go back to class,” he said.

After coming out of the teacher room, while walking while I mengedumel alone. If I couldn't bear it, maybe the tray I was holding landed on my cousin's head. That's how he is, if incarnated as a cousin brother then the nature of his evilness will come, but the hard and firm nature will come back if he has transformed into ustadz.

“Bu, everything,” I said while putting a look on the plate rack in the common kitchen.”

“Thank you, Nisa. And it seems like for today I can't go to class, because I'm going to the hospital."

“Yes, Mom."

“Mother leave your same assignment and please also convey to friends in class, make a recitation of Fiqh subjects about Bab Munakahat. Write on double folio paper and collect next week.”

“Siap Bu. Any extras, Ma?” many ensure.

“Already, I think enough. Nisa can return to class,” Bu Nafiza's orders.