Tidying Up Asa, Inviting Hidayah

25. Seberkas Rays.

...🍁Allohlah the owner of hidayah. To whom and in what way the light is present, no one can resist, except the true owner, Alloh aza wa jalla.🍁...

Hara's.

Joglo home pendopo surrounded by several small gazebos, this afternoon looks crowded. Primary school age children come along with their parents. Sitting lesehan, gathered in a pendopo made of recycled plastic waste.

Among them there are whispering to each other, laughing out loud, busy playing alone, some are just silent with blank stares.

The whole family of Mr. Fares sat in one corner of the pendopo with Faiz and some people I didn't know. Talking to each other is like giving up longing because long time no see.

One of the people I didn't know was shuffling from the group, positioning himself in the middle of the pendopo. he took the microphone and then tapped his finger to check if it was working properly or not.

“Assalamu’alaikum warrahmatullahi wa barokaatuh ..”.

Greetings were heard, greeted by the greeting answers of all those present except me. I got out of my seat as soon as Reyfan gave me the code. Out the camera, aiming at the woman who was talking. Then turn the shot in the other direction, looking for a good angle.

Click click click click click

Some pictures I took. For a moment to see the results of my shot, then I continued to take many more pictures. Today I got the task to capture the event in the form of photos. Tasyakuran event held by Pak Fares family.

“Sore this we gathered here in order event tasyakuran.” The voice of a woman holding a microphone stopped by my ear, “the first because the owner of this place, namely mbak Aneesha alhamdulillah is pregnant with her first child and happens to be today entering the age of four months.”

I was swept away many times aiming at the camera, taking many pictures from various angles. The voice of the show's performers was clear, but I ignored it.

“The second, thank God yesterday his sister mbak Aneesha. Which we already know, namely Jenar. Receive an application from someone.”

“Let's say do’a for this family, especially Aneesha and Jenar mbak. May what is a wish be granted by Allah, Aamiin. Do’a we will be led by ustadz Faiz. To him we welcome ...”

This event was not planned in advance. Because Aneesha and Reyfan just want to hold do’a together for a four-monthly event in this house. Incidentally this afternoon there was a training schedule for special needs children, so Aneesha wanted to share her happiness with them as well.

I saw the whole family enjoying the impromptu performance of the children who were taken care of by Faiz and Nanda's mother. Some show abilities by singing, dancing, or poetry.

What intrigued me was that as I passed near the mushola, I heard the voice of a girl. When I looked at the small open window of the mosque, it turned out to be the voice of Jenar.

Jenar was not alone, there were three children sitting in a row facing him. Jenar sat cross-legged facing the scriptures, listening to the three children who read the verse. Their eyes were blank, there were even those whose eyes were closed next door. I don't need to come near to know that the three kids can't see.

How can children read books without looking? It is impossible, because they have memorized the contents of the holy book.

Those kids are still very young. Maybe about 8-9 years, can not see. It turns out that God created every human being with his own advantages and disadvantages.

I pointed the camera at them. When I put the camera down, the sound of one of the children was heard by my ears. I don't know why my heart suddenly beats so fast and irregularly.

My own chest, I clearly felt the beating. Short of breath, I almost lost my breath. It was as if the flow of air into my lungs was blocked by something.

My hands were fumbling around, but I found nothing to hold. I took my body to sit on a stone beside the little mosque. I closed my eyes while taking a deep breath. Trying to restore the rhythm of the heartbeat that I think is increasingly chasing, but failed.

The tightness grew, squeezing my chest. Kuremas shirt on the chest, bent over with her elbows on her thighs. One hand was still holding the camera, while cold sweat began to drench my forehead and palms. I tried hard to breathe one by one, but the one that flashed in the dream was the shadow of papa and mama.

My mother smiled at me, with both hands open. While papa just stood still staring straight at me. Slowly their shadows drifted away, and then disappeared. Simultaneously a voice rang out, restoring my consciousness.

“Pak Hara?”

I opened my eyes while still trying to restore the roar of breath and neutralize the heartbeat. I looked, I saw Jenar and the three children who were in the mosque were now standing not far from me.

“Pak Hara is not pa-pa? How pale?” Jenar asked me with a frown.

I lowered my head, unable to answer because I could not catch my breath. I heard footsteps, then the voices of some people talking to each other.

“Pak Hara hurts?” That voice sounded so close. I saw from the tail of the eye, Jenar leaned over, looking for my lowered face. Just for a moment because then he looked the other way.

I was trying to straighten my back when some people approached. It turned out that the three children who were in the mosque earlier, were now together with their parents.

“Mbak Jenar, we say goodbye, yes. Thank you for today, food banquet and this-” A woman of the age of mbak Nanda raised a cloth bag containing hampers that was shared by Aneesha, who was, “hopefully return the kindness of the family mbak Jenar with more kindness, aamiin.”

I could still return a smile and nod politely as the men walked past me, after greeting each other with Jenar. The girl looked back at me after no one was near us.

“Pak Hara need help? Let me call-”

I hurriedly slashed off Jenar's words by pulling her hand. Because I see it will pass, “I'm fine.”

I tried to stand up while taking a deep breath. Put as much oxygen into the lungs, then exhale very slowly. Decompose the tightness, which I don't know what causes it.

“Sorry,” is aware that I made a mistake, I release Jenar's hand immediately. I saw Jenar looking down while taking two steps back from me.

A little bit of yesterday's story crossed my mind. Not wanting to happen again, I immediately moved away from him. After saying an apology once again, “sorry, I have to take a drink.”

Going a long way, I approached Reyfan and Aneesha who were talking in a gazebo with some people. I gave Reyfan the camera while whispering to him that I wanted to rest for a while.

After that I entered the house through the back door. Leaving the actual event is done, but people are still chatting casually.

I walked quickly to the kitchen. Take a glass, fill it with water, I'll drink it to the toilet. As soon as it was not felt, my heartbeat was back to normal. In the end I can breathe a sigh of relief.

I leaned my back against the wall, breathing out while looking up. I looked at the ceiling, recalling the incident a few minutes ago. It felt strange because I had never experienced the same incident before.

This was the first time I felt my body rebelling just from hearing the voice of the little boy. The voice of the boy was very sweet. It was as if I could feel the sound coming into my ears, bursting into the bloodstream and into the deepest recesses of my heart.

Is it possible that just a voice I listened to well, could make my body react abnormally?

Or maybe it's because I'm too carried away listening to the boy's voice? So my body reacted violently.

The sound made my chest tight because my heartbeat was chasing rhythmically. Be ill. But when I don't hear that voice anymore, why do I feel.

What the hell happened to me? Also about the shadow of papa and mama who were suddenly present. Wh why?

“Haus, yes, Hara?” my daydreams disconnected. Immediately I turned to the source of the sound, “ada hot tea if you want.” Bu Riani pointed at a teapot located on the kitchen table. I just realized I'm not alone in this kitchen. Must have been Miss Riani watching me since.

I immediately pulled back, standing up properly. Reject politely offer bu Riani, “thank you.”

“Surely you are tired, huh? Since you got here, you have been busy helping us. Aneesha same Reyfan it was never about to tell you. Sak det sak nyet, once said, then it must also be done. You're patient, yes, Hara.”

I nodded, raising a slight corner of the lips before replying to Bu Riani's words, “it's okay, Mom. That has become my duty.”

“So it doesn't feel good to you. This is, right, my family event. You are the most troublesome. Oya, mom told me yesterday, your hand got hit by a bamboo twig, huh? How now?”

“Ngak accidentally got to fit cleanin backyard, Mom. It's okay now, kok.”

“Have been taken to the doctor yet? Such wounds can not only be treated using ordinary wound medicine, you know. Must be completely clean, can infection if there are still bamboo splinters left in the wound.”

“Already taken to the doctor, it has been cleaned as well.”

“Alhamdulillah then. You should need a break, right? But Aneesha and Reyfan keep you busy.”

I just felt calm when I talked to Riani's mom. But apparently I wasn't allowed to feel that calm for much longer. Because from the direction of the door came the sound of people shouting calling me, “Hara! Here!”

“Tuh, right. Just talked about,” Bu Riani shook her head while clicking, “they like to make you work full day.”

I just threw a fleeting smile. Immediately I put an empty glass in the dishwasher. He walked over to Reyfan, who was standing in the doorway. Be prepared to accept any task that will be given by him.

My job is not limited to office work. As a personal assistant, I should be able to do whatever job I am given. Whatever if it concerns Reyfan, Aneesha and her family.

Sometimes even weekends I am still burdened with work. I had to steal time to just have fun, indulge myself in doing fun things. Although I rarely do that.

If only I could, I would add a day to 25 hours. So I can use that one hour to pamper myself or just take a nap.

Reyfan and Aneesha really don't let me relax today. From morning till evening, there was a lot of work that they gave me.

Prepare a pendopo for a place of prayer with children with special needs who once a week come to practice art. Documenting events, preparing hampers, until clearing the place after the event is over.

Not until there, because I still have to prepare a place and banquet for the four-monthly study of Aneesha's pregnancy. This family invites relatives and local residents to read sacred verses and do’a the safety of mother and baby.

Mr. Fares said the more people who mendo’akan the better. So at night, the pendopo back crowded. The sound of people reading the verse simultaneously sounded like the buzzing of thousands of bees. Enlarge do’a by reading their religious scriptures.

During the event, I stayed away from the pendopo. Choose to sit in a gazebo that is located farthest from the pendopo. Enjoy cigarettes in the cold night air that penetrates the pores. White smoke billows, soars into space and disappears with the wind.

As the humming sounds of people gulping slowly dissipated, I crushed the cigarette butts on the ashtray. I took my personal cell phone out of my pants pocket, checked the item when a message came in. But nil. My phone rarely receives messages or calls. Not many people know my contact number.

I was surfing on my social media account, seeing obscure posts that were enough to kill deserted. As I felt the presence of someone walking closer towards me.

I took my eyes off the phone screen, looking at the strapping body now standing in front of the gazebo where I was sitting relaxing.

“I can join here, Mr Hara?” The man whom I had followed a long time ago wherever he went, was now smiling kindly at me.

I nodded, bending my legs straightened out, giving Ghufron a place to sit. He folded the front cover he was wearing, then climbed into the gazebo, sat down next to me.

I poured a pack of cigarettes that had been reduced by two sticks on him. The usual thing I do is have a man sit with me. But Ghufron shook his head in polite speech.

“Thank you. Sorry, I don't smoke.”

I shrugged my shoulders. Truly the prospective daughter-in-law coveted by Mr. Fares. Since long ago he wanted to have the same daughter-in-law like him, which is a righteous man who does not smoke.

“Why not be there with the others?” I pointed with the chin of the pendopo that was still crowded with people enjoying the food.

Ghufron shook his head with a wry smile, “I feel unfamiliar there, sir. No one knows.”

I understand if Ghufron feels foreign. Because too many people come, from close relatives to distant relatives of Mr. Fares' family. The neighbors and acquaintances of Mr. Fares who live around here. Of course Ghufron doesn't know all those people.

“Pak Hara is also alone here.”

“I am a Christian,” I answered the question mark seen on Ghufron's face.

He looked at me regretfully, probably because he had misjudged, “oh, sorry. I don't know.”

“True to have told me that Mr. Hara has been working with Reyfan for a long time, but has never told me that Mr. Hara is not in the faith with us. I think we're the same.”

Everyone who saw my closeness with Reyfan, certainly did not expect if it turns out we are different beliefs. Because wherever Reyfan goes, I'm always by his side. Including if Reyfan is praying jum’at once. I waited for him in the car I parked in the courtyard of the mosque.

Ghufron asked me to have a light conversation. He didn't bring up the matter of me wanting to know about his personal life in the past. We seemed familiar, but only a few times to talk and this time was a long conversation.

I didn't think Ghufron was good to talk to, unlike other young people who were arrogant and always wanted to show their cleverness. Ghufron was a well-mannered young man, of words and mannerisms. Good at carrying yourself, adjusting is talking to whom.

I who is not easy to establish a friendship with a stranger, can immediately chat comfortably with him. Although still a bit disturbed because he always called me ‘pak’. Whereas with Reyfan he can call with the designation ‘mas’. Does my face look older than Reyfan who is two years above me?

“Sorry before Mr. Hara, I love this,” Ghufron reached into his cocoon pocket, took something. Then his hand outstretched giving me a small bottle of clear liquid.

My lips were just about to open to ask, but Ghufron had already explained, “ini special perfume men, arabic aroma, agarwood wood. I used to wear if I want to pray jum’at, reminding me when in the holy land. Sorry, I didn't mean anything. Just want to share souvenirs.”

I took out a small bottle from Ghufron's hand, unscrewed the black cap, wanting to inhale the scent of its contents. It was different from the dozens of perfumes I had ever worn. Fragrance that I think .. soothes the soul.

“Do not misunderstand, yes, Mr. Hara. I just want to give a gift, not a matter of faith or not. The perfume can be used not only for praying jum’at. But for any event, flexible.”

I caught a note of condolence to Ghufron's voice. Maybe he thought I'd be offended by his gift. He was wrong, because even though I am not good at expressing feelings, but I am not a person who is easily offended.

“Thank you, yes.” I close the small bottle tightly, I keep it in my shirt pocket, “I'll definitely wear.”

Ghufron smiled, she could definitely breathe a sigh of relief because I accepted her gift. I picked up a cigarette, just about to catch up, when I heard the notification tone of the incoming message. But it's not from my phone, it must be Ghufron's.

I saw him take his phone out of his pocket, and then he looked at me for a moment. “Sorry, Mr. Hara. Jenar looking for me.” Say it while putting your phone back in your pocket.

I'm nodding. Before Ghufron fully descended from the gazebo, the phone I had just placed on the gazebo mat shook. Wailing for signs there's an incoming call. Immediately I swipe the green icon on the screen, knowing the name listed on the screen.

“Where are you? I'm waiting on the front porch, fast!”

Not yet answered, Reyfan has turned off the phone unilaterally. I put out a cigarette, I brought the match down from the gazebo. Going long, passing the pendopo that is still crowded, enter the house through the back door.

I met Reyfan on the front porch of the house. There were a lot of people there, not alone.

“This is it ... our artist, Hara!” seloroh Reyfan as I approach.

“Reacted right. My vision is not wrong.” The voice of a man standing next to Mr. Fares, made me focus on staring at the source of the voice.

We threw smiles at each other, then I extended my hand to shake hands with him. All eyes were on us, because the one I was shaking hands pulled me into my arms.

“I didn't expect, we'll meet here.” whispered in my ear.

I returned the arms of the slightly stocky middle-aged man. I made sure my face was red, as it felt the center of attention.

“What is this?” Mr. Fares made a sound after we broke down the hug.

“This is the son of my wife's little friend, Widuri. Yeah, right, Hara? We just met yesterday."

I nodded, answering everyone's curiosity.

Recalling the story of Pak Wawan the other day after introducing me to kyai Ali and gus Hafidz. Once felt clumsy, but I could soon master myself. Mr. Kyai Ali was embracing my shoulder, like finding a long-lost son.

I learned of the presence of Kyai Ali since then, which is the reason why I chose to be alone in the gazebo the furthest than helping to prepare dishes in the pendopo. Actually I don't want to see Kyai Ali. Where do I know it turns out he has seen my existence first.

That night was open what I had been hiding all along. The presence of kyai Ali and gus Hafidz makes me have to tell about the family of Pak Wawan to Reyfan. That night Reyfan asked me to accompany Pak kyai Ali's car, escorting him back to the boarding house. I went back to Wawan's house.

Only to Reyfan did I tell him my biggest secret, only to him did I tell him that I still had a twin sister with a different mother father. Because Reyfan's the only person I can trust.

It was a tiring day that I ended up playing with Naufal before the incident happened again. When I heard Akmal teach Naufal to read a verse before going to sleep. Just as the little boy said this afternoon at Aneesha's house.

My chest suddenly felt claustrophobic just from listening to a verse I myself did not know what it meant. When I closed my eyes, the shadows of papa and mama came back to shadow me, what was this really about? What happened to me. What verse is Akmal reading?

ٱللَّهُ لَآ إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا هُوَ ٱلْحَىُّ ٱلْقَيُّومُ

Allaah, there is no God (who has the right to be worshipped) but Him..... (Q.S Albaqarah 255)

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Seriate.....