A Piece of Asa In A Taste
For Whom?

"Will you be my priest?" ask Bylla with a smile.

Ghani was flabbergasted, her heart beating irregularly upon hearing Bylla's question. The woman he loved asked him to become a priest. Is this just an escape to make Reymond jealous? Or despair? Why did Bylla make this decision so soon.

"A.I.I..."

"It is not too late to pray Maghrib?" ask Bylla.

Ghani realized for a moment, like a bird, that he had just flown over the clouds, and was now crashing to the bottom of the earth. Bylla's question made Ghani think about the household, but it turned out that he meant only imams in prayer.

"Why did I think that far, what I had, that made Bylla want to get me married. She was fragile, where perhaps her heart turned away that fast," Ghani's inner voice while scratching her non-itchy head.

"Ghani!" call Bylla.

"It can, it can." Ghani said firmly.

"Thank you" replied Bylla with a big smile.

Then Ghani got up from her seat, pushed her wheelchair, and took her to a room near the living room. A room that is specifically used for prayer. Ghani cleaned himself first, he changed his pants with a holster provided there. Also change his clothes with Kairi's shirt.

"This room is devoted to worship, but we rarely enter it. If you're here, usually only Papa and Mama are often in this room," said Bylla, staring at each inch of the room.

Grandfather, grandmother, and himself, they put world affairs first, rather than the afterlife. As with his mother and father, they always took the time to face the Creator. Although her mother is not a hijab woman, she is a woman with an almost perfect personality.

"From tomorrow, you're the one who comes in here often, yes!" ghani said with a smile.

"I'll try." Answer Bylla.

Then Ghani helped Bylla down from her wheelchair, also helping her pick up her face. Ghani smiled, looking at the beautiful face of Bylla in a long white veil. It rests on a prayer mat, facing the Qibla, and prepares to face the Creator.

Ghani stood his back to Bylla, and recited the intention of praying in his heart. Now they are facing the Almighty.

After performing the prayer, the two of them raised their hands, chanting the prayer in each other's hearts.

"Oh Allah, I never imagined I would be a prayer priest for Bylla. May You desire, allow the servant to be a priest in his life, that this feeling may not be a sin. O God, You who are all understand what is the best way to live. Forgive me if this dream is too high. O Allah, if the servant is not yet fit to be his companion, please lead him to establish himself. Protect him, O God, strengthen his heart in the face of this test." Ghani said in his heart. Then he rubbed his face with both hands.

"O Allah, forgive those who are far from You. The pleasures of the world make the servant negligent, forgive the sins of the servant O Allah. O Allah, I sincerely try to accept this fact, give a beautiful place to Mika, forgive the servant who had been prejudiced against her.

O Allah, if indeed Reymond is not a servant match. Strengthen the heart of the servant, abolish the feelings that are still left for him. Approach the servant to someone whom You have predestined. O Allah, if You will, find the servant with the true soul mate. The servant needs the priest to lead the servant's step, to bring the servant closer to You O God." Bylla said in her heart.

"Ghani!" call Bylla.

Ghani turned his head, looking at Bylla who was smiling at him.

"I don't know why, whenever I hear your advice, my heart is always moved. Thank you for caring about me, reminding me, and asking me to be a better person." Bylla said sincerely.

"No need to thank you, I'm not as good as Bylla. I am still often wrong, please do not hesitate to remind me, too" replied Ghani.

"Don't get tired of being friends with me huh, honestly I feel comfortable with you," Bylla said while showing off her sweet smile.

"Comfortable," Ghani's inner heart beats faster. Comfortable as he meant.

"I.iya. Me, I'm also happy to be friends with you." Ghani answered nervously.

Soon after, Ghani returned home. He was back in his own clothes. Miss Mirna drove him to the front door, while Bylla, she was still silent in the room.

"Ghani, this door is always wide open for you. Any time you want to see Bylla, come, don't worry!" said Ms. Mirna with a smile.

"Thank you, Madam." Answer Ghani. It was amazing to see her grandmother Bylla who did not mind her social status.

"You're Bylla's friend, so call me madam, just call Oma, yeah!"

"Mmm but, but___"

"No need to hesitate, call Oma, yes!" said Ms. Mirna repeating her words.

"Well, well Madam, mmm Oma." Ghani answered nervously.

Miss Mirna responded with a big smile.

"Yes, then excuse me, Oma!"

"Yes, careful!"

"Yes Oma. Assalamu'alaikum."

"Getishalight."

Ghani leaves Bylla's house. His footsteps felt very light, a look of happiness emanated clearly on his face. A glimmer of hope returns, desperate to have a heart, re-emerged in the heart.

On the way home, Ghani bought a few packs of food for the children. He failed to buy chocolate, because at this time the money was only enough to eat. But Ghani is grateful that at least the children are not starving. And again, he is also grateful for still being awarded health. There is at least tomorrow to please them.

***

The time is so fast rolling, a month has passed since Ghani came to visit Bylla. Their relationship is getting closer. On the sidelines of his busy work in collecting abuse, Ghani always took the time to visit Bylla. He never gets bored, to give him motivation.

One thing that made Ghani feel so happy, the Bylla family never looked at him one eye. They were open to him.

They are very wise upper class people. They always keep the attitude, never once offended Ghani. Whether it's his parents, his grandparents, or his uncles, and his aunt. They judge a person by heart and personality, not by possessions and position.

Two weeks ago, Bylla's parents returned to Indonesia. And they'll settle down, not come back to Paris. Only sometimes, his father would go there himself, to take care of businesses that could not be represented. It also makes Bylla feel much better, compared to last time.

This afternoon, Ghani returns to visit Bylla, the woman taking him for a walk to the park. Ghani approves his request, she pushes her wheelchair, and takes him to the park, which happens to be not too far away.

Ghani stopped near the long chair, which was under an acacia tree. The wind was blowing softly, as if stroking the bodies of the two gently.

Bylla smiled, out of nowhere it came, suddenly there was a very comfortable and calm feeling, slowly infiltrating into her calf. A feeling that no matter what the name, he himself had difficulty defining.

Bylla was still holding a small guitar on her lap, Ghani's guitar. The man came after scavenging for sustenance on the side of the road, so no wonder, if the little guitar was always there with him.

"Ghani!" call Bylla.

"Yes" Ghani replied as she stepped in front of Bylla.

"Do you want anything?" ask Ghani.

"No, sit!" replied Bylla while shaking her head.

Ghani landed her body on a long bench, she looked at Bylla who kept smiling at her.

"Why you?" ghani asked a little wrongly. She was nervous as Bylla kept looking at her with a smile.

"Sing me a song!" bylla said as she thrust out the small guitar she held.

"Me, sing, mmmm but."

"Why? You don't want to?" ask Bylla.

"It's not that I don't want to, but you know, my voice is really bad" Ghani replied, scratching his head. He was unusually nervous.

"For me, let's sing!" bylla.

"But Bylla."

"Please!" bylla said slowly.

With no other choice, Ghani grabs the guitar proffered to him. Although his heart seemed to jump from its place, but he tried to look calm.

"After you're done singing, I'll tell you one very good news" Bylla said.

"What news, about what?" ghani asked quickly.

"Keep your curiosity first! Finish one song, and I want a story!" bylla said while laughing crisply.

Ghani looked at him while sighing deeply. If only he could be as calm as Bylla. But love always makes him nervous and wrong.

"What song do you want?" ask Ghani.

"As far as you."

"Kok whatever?"

"Yes, whatever you want to give me, what song" replied Bylla, again with a sweet smile. A smile that seemed able to stop the seconds of time in Ghani's life.

Ghani began to move his fingers, strum the strings of a guitar, and make a melody that was pleasant to hear. After a few seconds, Ghani began to open his voice, chanting the lyrics of a song that was describing his feelings. Once's song, titled Dealova.

If last time, he chanted the song in front of many people, he permeated it while imagining the figure of Bylla who always incarnated in his dreams.

Now, he sang the song while looking directly at the figure of the woman who reigned in his heart.

You are like a song in my heart

Who called my miss to you

Like the air I hold

You've always been there

Arriving at the lyrics, Bylla's heart beat faster. I don't know what's wrong with him. In the next second, he no longer absorbed the song sung by Ghani, but he even looked at the man's face.

Ghani seemed to be swept away in the song, as if the song was really describing his feelings.

Who for?

One question that is now starting to plague Bylla's mind. He feels uneasy when he imagines Ghani falling in love. What's up with him? Again Bylla failed to understand her own feelings.

Seriate...