Tidying Up Asa, Inviting Hidayah
82. Heart Beat's
🌵When you feel unusual pounding, excessive worry, or thinking too much about someone .. be careful! It could be that the seed of love is sown in the heart.🌵
Hara
I stared at the dark night sky of Yogyakarta without stars. Cold air penetrates the skin despite wearing a thick jacket. I smoked a deep cigarette, held the smoke in the larynx, opened the mouth, then pushed it with the tongue, to form some O letters in the air. I watched the puff of smoke fade into the wind, then disappear.
The large mosque in front of this hut had been deserted since a while ago. Most of the santri had rested in their respective rooms. Kyai Ali and Gus Hafidz, who I picked up at the school, entered the house. The night was very late, but I did not want to end the daydreaming session while looking at the sky. There is a disturbing thought, since returning from Magelang this afternoon.
The pieces of the incident at Aneesha's house turned back in his mind. The sound of Jenar's cheerful laughter as she laughed at Lion for fear of the millipedes, his agile fingers set bait in the hook, and his sparkling face when Naufal managed to lure a large tilapia. The girl was not even afraid of being exposed to the scorching sun to wait for Naufal to fish.
Unbeknownst to me, Jenar ordered lunch through an inter-messaging app. The Lion asked us all to eat out many times, but Jenar refused. Do not want to disturb Naufal who is busy fishing, he said. He prepared his own banquet for all of us, as the host who welcomed the guests well.
I was very patient with Naufal. They both look compact and familiar, but not long known. Naufal was at home all day playing there, even until it was difficult to get home. Jenar was like she used to take care of a child. He painstakingly took the fish's spines while preparing food for Naufal. Because the boy wanted to eat alone.
It's not just what keeps me looking until the day has changed. Naufal chirps when hearing the sound of azan, ‘Om, ngendi mosque? I am arep salat.’ (Which mosque? I want to pray). It dawned on me that I shouldn't have taken Naufal away for too long, that the boy might have missed a time of worship.
I was just about to think, but Jenar already replied, “Salat just there, together,” He pointed towards the small musala at the end of the page.
The girl helped Naufal wash his feet and hands, as well as put on gloves. I don't know how Jenar can make adult-size gloves fit for a child. The three of them - with Lion-salat together. Before we went home, they also had time to perform afternoon prayers together.
Naufal was a child, but he always worshiped in the mosque on time. If not with Mas Akmal, the boy will go with Pak Wawan. I see the neighborhood children in the neighborhood where Pak Wawan lived as well as that. I love going to the mosque when I hear the cries of Azaan.
Did your childhood take me to church? As I remember only some of you went to worship with papa, it was also because my mother forced. At Christmas and Easter, it was my mother who drove to church, even though she was just waiting in the car. Coming home from the church we would have fun by going around the shopping mall. Maybe you used to be too busy working, so you didn't have time to teach me religion.
Is this the cause, now I'm a gamang? Doubtful about the faith I have. Seeing the Lion, Jenar and Naufal pray quietly, laughing after coming out of the musala, like a pleasure to do worship. It feels right, but I can't feel the cause. Iri, not happy to see others happy, jealous because Naufal can be familiar with others, or I also want to be like them?
It's early morning, but my daydream hasn't been conical. A lodge manager was seen entering the mosque, bending over as he passed me. Soon the call to wake the santri will be heard, but I have no desire to move. Faintly heard muttering people teach, melodious and always make me want to linger enjoying the sound.
I picked up the cell phone lying on the bench, this time sending a message to him. Anyway, I have to immediately address these concerns one by one. The way to begin immediately, from the thing that makes my heart beat without rhythm.
***
String.
Too bad I woke up this morning, the body feels sore and bone linu. After a pretty exhausting Sunday yesterday. Usually, my weekdays are just about lying down while watching a drama, or spending bude Sari cooking after teaching tahfidz.
However, Naufal's arrival made my Sunday very busy, but pleasant. I didn't expect that Mr. Hara would invite Naufal to come yesterday, when I was confused to find an excuse for Brother Lion to leave immediately. The idea of inviting Naufal fishing, it turns out that it can hold the child to linger. Because, I don't want to just be alone with Brother Lion at home, after Mas Faiz and all the special needs teachers go home.
Naufal is a fun, smart and sociable boy. We met a few times, we were very familiar. With Brother Lion who had only met once, Naufal could also familiarize himself. That kid is amazing.
Regardless, the obligation as a Muslim must be fulfilled. Although lazy, I still wake up for dawn prayers. Morning shower can actually drive away sleepiness and laziness. As usual I use the time to read al-qur’an, while waiting for the dluha prayer time. My daily routine, will not go out of the room before the dluha prayer.
Actually the one who's more excited to want me to recover from this trauma is Mr. Hara. The man yesterday spoke in a high tone when I asked to postpone the counseling. Maybe it was because he was looking for a place of treatment, took pains to register my name, and paid for it as well. So I'm not willing to waste the opportunity. I still have a little doubt about the decision to take this medication. Fear of not meeting expectations, will only waste costs.
At 08:00 in the morning, I'm ready to go. I've estimated the mileage fits the time it takes to get to the clinic. However, when I checked the phone there was a message from him. I saw the message clock until, in the early hours, but only had time to open it now.
‘I pick up at 07.30 WIB, must be ready.’
Mr Hara this how, yesterday said can not transfer, this send a chat he said to pick up? How late am I to read it, he's come yet, huh?
I looked outside through the window, without replying to the chat. It appears that Mr. Hara's car is parked neatly in front of the pendopo, whether since when. I snorted, grabbing the bag, rushing out of the room.
Mr. Hara was seen sitting on a wooden chair facing the dining table, making me stand glued in front of the room. Has he been waiting for me for a long time? Why didn't Ma'am Sayumi call me from earlier? Uh! I forgot, Mr. Hara must not have told Ms. Sayumi that she would pick me up.
Well, now what am I supposed to say? What if Mr. Hara was angry because he had waited a long time, when I really did not know he would pick him up. At times like this the ability of the brain is not much, I have to force to think fast.
While scratching my head - which of course does not itch - I forcefully pulled my legs even though it felt heavy to step. By taking a deep breath, then removing it rough, I approached Pak Hara who was lifting the cup. I smiled, as he glanced at me over coffee.
“Good morning, Mr Hara? Been a while?” I greeted in a friendly tone as possible, of course so that he would not be angry because he had waited a long time.
Beyond a doubt, Mr. Hara choked. He coughed, then put down the cup with the origin of causing some of his coffee to spill. I panicked, and I took a rag, about to clean the table from the coffee spill. However, I instead nudged the cup until the contents spilled all about the shirt and pants Pak Hara.
“Sorry,” I said to see Mr. Hara snorting and his face looked very upset.
I got you a stel of pants and a shirt belonging to Kak Reyfan, the size is almost the same as Pak Hara. It can be worn instead of wearing dirty clothes all day. He was cleaning coffee stains on the shirt when I got back from the room.
“Change, Sir. Later I will wash his dirty clothes.” I said while giving clothes to Mr. Hara.
He did not answer, only picked up a shirt and rushed to the bathroom. His face was still very obvious, as well as the rough movement of his hands when taking clothes from my hands. I could only sigh, while tidying up the cup and the rest of the coffee spill on the dining table.
“I wait in the car,” said Mr. Hara as he passed past me who was washing hands in westafle.
Very quickly he finished changing clothes, even though I had not washed the cup. I immediately wiped my hands, grabbed the bag, then followed him out the back door. It was quite a mistake this morning, not wanting anything else. Can not imagine if Mr. Hara constantly upset, could face without expression is getting stiff.
For the sake of imagining the shape of the blackboard into the face of Mr. Hara, I held back a laugh while glancing at the strapping back that was walking in front. Especially when he opened the car door for me with a flat expression, I almost let out a laugh.
“Mbak Jenar, Hey!” mbak Sayumi's voice shouted, undoing my intention to get into the car.
She is very different from Mr. Hara. If Mr. Hara has almost no facial expression, then Ms. Sayumi is the most expressive person I have ever known. Being with two people is like being in two different dimensions.
“Arep nandi? Lungo tanpo poyan, ra pamit ra goods!” (Where are you going? Go say nothing, no saying either.) Ma'am Sayumi grumbled.
“You go to college, Ma'am.” I replied, of course not entirely lying. Because, I really want to go to college after finishing counseling later.
“Ngapusi (lie)!” I was confused, it could be that Ma'am Sayumi did not believe my answer. My appearance is the same as always if I want to go to college.
“Without when Jenar Lenar lungo campus visited Mas Pak Hara?” Apparently Ma'am Sayumi was suspicious because she saw that I was going with Mr. Hara. I usually go to college by myself, so no wonder if he thinks I'm lying.
“No takon me, hem?” jolt Ma'am Sayumi, asking for an explanation.
I was just about to find an excuse, but Mr. Hara already answered, “He just wants to be together until the post office, Ma'am. No way I take him to campus, I am not working?”
I grimaced, hearing Mr. Hara's perfectly logical answer. Sister Sayumi was also a mangosteen, hopefully she is satisfied with that answer.
“I leave, yes, Ma'am Say. Can be late to campus if you miss the Ramayana.” bus I kissed the hand of Mba Sayumi, trying to make her more sure.
“Awas, yo, nek do fuck me!” Ms. Sayumi threatened if we were caught lying.
The woman raised her index and middle fingers, and then pointed them at both of my eyes, Mr. Hara's eyes and her own. A threat, as if he was saying that ‘you are in my surveillance!’
I got into the car, Mr. Hara very carefully asked me to lift the dangling robe. If he lets it, then when the door is closed it is definitely my game is pinched and will cause difficulty rung, the possibility can be torn.
The road was pretty smooth this morning, because the office hours and school entrance were already over. Not knowing what to do, I chose to take the mushaf and read it. If I am on a trip, I often fill it with teaching. At-Thaha's letter almost reached the end of the verse, when I realized the car was very quiet. Mr. Hara didn't turn on the car audio apparently.
“Cooling?” Mr. Hara asked while shrinking the AC.
I reflexively turned, almost surprised to realize he was watching me. Immediately I unraveled the fingers that were originally linked to each other. Not only because of the cold, but also thinking how to start a conversation with this rigid whiteboard.
“Because I don't usually ride in a car using AC, Sir.” Luckily I found an answer soon.
“You're turned off?” Mr. Hara looked at me.
I shook my head, then turned to the right side with a smile. Meant to give a sign to Mr. Hara that I don't mind the car AC on. But he immediately turned away. Is he still upset by what happened this morning, so he won't look at me?
The vehicle in front started moving, as the traffic signs had turned green. After moving the bell, Mr. Hara extended his left hand, picking up a box lying on the dashboard. Then give it to me, without changing the focus of the vision from the highway.
“What's this, sir? Make me?”
I saw Mr. Hara nod before replying, “From Mbak Nabila, in exchange for yesterday you gave the fish to Naufal.”
“Wah! Mbak Nabila used to bother, anyway? The fish, right, the results of Naufal fishing alone.” I opened the box is light green, it turns out the contents are ... food that I always ordered if Mba Sayumi buy porridge in the shop.
“Mbak Nabila really understands I have not had breakfast,” said to see the brownish fried cassava grains neatly arranged in the box, “Made Nabila himself, Pak?”
Mr. Hara nodded, still with a straight look at the highway, “Tadi is still warm, because you are in the room continues, now it is cold.”
Instantly I remember having made Mr. Hara wait a long time this morning. Already so, even more upset by dirtying his clothes. What kind of girl am I? Not knowing yourself once.
I closed the box containing the camplon, seemed to have to talk to Mr. Hara as an expression of forgiveness and thanks for his kindness to me. Talk about what topic, huh? My job does not understand what he is doing, the Korean drama that I am following is impossible, the gossip of the artist moreover, is not interesting. Uh! Maybe the view ahead, could be a discussion.
“Pak Hara ever went to Japan?” I waited until he nodded, just continued the sentence, “What is the view like here, Sir?”
He looked over, frowning. I immediately explained the intent of my question, “That!” I pointed my index finger forward, “Sakura flowers are blooming. I see on instagram, many say Magelang so like Japan.”
Source: Magelang Voice
We were both silent for a moment, before finally Mr Hara responded, “Absolutely you have never been there?”
“Ke Japan?” I return the question, then continue the sentence with a grumbling tone, “See the photos often, if there really has not. Let's not go abroad, sir. Just off the island, I've never been. Go the farthest also new to Jakarta, also did not have time to visit Monas.”
I know Mr. Hara is smiling, even though we don't look at each other. If you are seriously driving, Mr. Hara is really like a whiteboard; plate. I tried to talk, but he responded just as necessary. The journey is still good again, the time does it want to be accompanied?
“Pak Hara often goes abroad for sure, huh? Ever been to Japan when cherry blossoms were in bloom?” I really want to know. Because the scenery presented in front is very beautiful to spoil the eyes.
“Since graduating from boarding school I continued to America, the same Reyfan. Every summer, we have a holiday schedule around Asia and europe.” I can't believe Mr. Hara started the story.
“Wah! Senengnya ...,” I puffed my cheeks, envious of the story of Mr. Hara who had lived abroad.
“Sakura flowers in Japan are similar to those on the left right of this road,” Pak Hara continued while pointing at the trees planted on the right-left of Magelang road.
I'm so enthusiastic to know, “This is not sakura, sir?”
“Not. Its name is Tabebuya flower, the color of the flowers is white and pink. This plant is imported from Brazil not from Japan. There is also Surabaya, right?”
I'm mangosteen, just found out it turns out all this time I've been wrong. I think this plant is the same as cherry blossoms in Japan, it is not.
“This plant flowers twice a year, usually in March and October, at the turn of the season. The bloom of Tabebuya flowers is not long, only about two weeks ago will fall out on its own. Well, if it falls out that way, it continues to catch wind, the flowers are scattered everywhere, so a beautiful sight.” explained Mr. Hara.
“So it is more beautiful to fall than when the flowers bloom, sir?” manya curious.
“Sama-sama beautiful. If it is in bloom, the view of the city will be like in Japan. When it is falling, the street looks like a carpet studded with flowers.”
I thought for a moment while looking ahead. The path we went through left-right decorated with pink flowers and white flowers was in bloom. Some flowers fell, because of the strong wind, reflex I imagined how beautiful the streets were studded with Tabebuya flowers.
“Malah dumbly?” I was surprised when I heard the question from Mr. Hara.
Immediately I cut off the daydream by opening the lid of the box on the lap. I took one camplon, then bit it. Sweet red sugar melts on the tongue, a blend of savory and sweet flavors, perfectly shaking the tongue.
“You're not fasting?”
I'm shaking. I did not answer immediately, for my mouth was full. After swallowing food, I just gave an answer, “Tadi morning wake up already late morning dawn, did not have time to read the intention.”
I looked over, wanting to see Mr. Hara's response. Just then Mr. Hara was also looking at me, but only at a glance. Again, he quickly changed the direction of view. I was curious, until I reflected on the rearview mirror. Why does Mr. Hara seem so reluctant to see my face? Is the wig I'm wearing too thick, or is the lipbalm on my lips too glossy?
Thinking about it, I choked on the contents of the camplon. When trouble was about to wipe his dirty hands, Mr. Hara thrust a box of tissue at me. Not finished cleaning his hands, he gave a bottle of drinking water.
“Mbak Nabila who ready, I have not drank at all.” he said, dispelling doubts that terbesit.
“Thank you,” I received the bottle, then immediately drank it to eliminate the stinging effect in the throat due to choking.
Mr. Hara nodded. From home to this Blondo street, can I say if Mr. Hara-si's rigid-board becomes more attentive?
He who does not turn on the car audio because I was reading al-qur’an, shrink the AC, so that I do not get cold. Want to answer my curious questions with a long story. Asking if I wasn't fasting because I was casually eating the camplon, taking a tissue without asking, giving me water to drink to the choking me. Too trusting of you if I think he's considerate?
Sometimes people who are not in harmony with us, just pay more attention to detail. Meanwhile, people of the same religion even drop each other.
This morning Mr. Hara is different from the usual, more humane. I'm not dreaming, am I? Lest this is just a hallucination, because it is dissolved to see the beautiful scenery in front. The Tabebuya trees are in bloom, along the way greeted with pink and white colors that beautify the scenery.
No, it's reality. Not a dream, not a hallucination. Because when I hold my chest, it still beats. It's just with an unusual rhythm.
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Seriate....
Actually want to photograph the latest images of tabebuya trees that are blooming along Magelang road from Palbapang intersection to Sarwo Edie Wibowo Street, also in the shopping area. It turned out that my prediction was wrong, this year the flowers bloomed too early. Late August has begun budding, early September has fallen. Because I am a mager, and thank God is alternating sick at home, right on the road to the city of Magelang, it turns out the flowers have fallen out, not so take photos, deh. Fortunately, the latest photos are on the internet. 😉
Ih, it turns out that there are both pounding but unconscious, euy! Mr. Hara actually nganter Jenar, these are friends. Approximately will be awaited counseling until finished continue to be delivered to the campus all of you, huh? Looking forward to the next chapter
😉
