A Piece of Asa In A Taste
Crying Alone

Ghani looked at the pensive Bylla. His head lowered, staring at the floor where they stood. Inwardly, Ghani suspects that there is a burden that Bylla is hiding. A burden that might be quite heavy for him.

For quite a while they were silent, silent, only the sound of children's laughter could be heard in their ears. Ghani took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Although Ghani doesn't know what the problem is, he tries to lighten his load.

"Bylla!" call Ghani.

Bylla lifted her face, she turned her head, and looked at Ghani at a glance, then threw her gaze forward. Although only a moment, but Ghani can see clearly, if the corner of Bylla's eyes began to wet. Is that the burden?

"I don't know what kind of problem made you move here. But I believe this choice of yours is the best for you. One thing you should know, Bylla, fate is always beautiful. Whatever God gives you, there must be a reason. There must be wisdom, behind every incident. God has led you to this country, it is because God has prepared a very beautiful thing for you, here." Ghani said at length.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, just so you can believe."

"How old are you now?" bylla asked while looking at Ghani.

"Maybe older than you, I'm 24 years old." Ghani replied, she was a little surprised why Bylla asked her age. Does his face look so old?

"You're wrong, I've been 25. I'm older than you, but you're a lot more mature, than I am.

I have rarely been grateful for my life, I complain more often. I often blame circumstances, which I find very unfair." Bylla. His eyes were blank, his mind was staring far away somewhere.

Ghani stared fixedly at Bylla, as if he could not believe that the woman before him was 25 years old. Her face is graceful, beautiful, looks so cute, like a teenage girl.

"Thankful is obligatory of Bylla, for with gratitude our hearts will be at peace. We will not compare our lives with others, because we are satisfied with what has been given to us." Ghani.

Bylla was silent, a man who was a year younger than her, with a life far from decent, she could be grateful for what was inside her. Can he do the same?

Bylla's mind goes back in time, remembering the one person who took away everything she ever had.

"Do we still have to be grateful, when all we have is slowly disappearing? What's wrong, if I hate someone who has taken away what's mine?" bylla asked while looking at Ghani.

"Of course, even in times of calamity we must remain grateful. Why hate, if God takes away what you have, it means God is preparing a better substitute. Be patient, there are times when you will understand, if what you have in the past, it is not the best for you" Ghani replied with a smile.

"Like that?"

"Yes. Overridden by misfortune, overwritten by trouble, it means God is in love." Ghani.

"Fell in love?"

"Yes, God is in love, and is missing us. I'm sorry, but most people are closer to their God when they're in trouble. That is why God sent down misfortune for us, that we may return close to Him." Ghani.

Again Bylla was silent, what Ghani said was completely true. While in Paris, he often faced the Creator, complaining while shedding tears. But since moving here, and meeting Reymond, her heart has started to be happy, and her life has felt so much more beautiful. It was then that he began to forget his Lord. He was busy with world affairs, leaving no time for his afterlife.

"What are you thinking?" ask Ghani.

"You are right, man is closer to God when he is in trouble. Not anyone, but myself." Bylla.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, you're not offending me. I thank you with all your words, now that I realize, there are still many things that I need to fix in me." Bylla.

Ghani has not yet answered Bylla, suddenly Bylla's phone sounds quite loud.

"Opa Hallo!

Oh yes Opa, I'll be home soon!"

"Yes, thank you very much for visiting." Answer Ghani.

"Yes, next time I'll come again."

"Thank you, be careful" Ghani said as Bylla stepped on her feet.

"Yes. Assalamu'alaikum."

"Getishalight."

Ghani stared at the body of Bylla who started to get into her car. There was a strange feeling rippling in his heart. Could this be love? Ah, but is it worth a figure like her, falling in love with a figure like Bylla. The earth and the sky are very different.

***

In front of the two-story mansion, Bylla turned her car around. He drove down his yard and stopped his car in the garage. Bylla let out a long sigh, then opened the door, and stepped down from the car.

Bylla stepped towards the main door that was wide open. According to his grandfather, Mr. Dani is currently coming to his house. Mr. Dani is one of the confidants of Kairi Da Vinci, his biological father Bylla.

"Assalamu'alaikum." Bylla. He stepped onto the living room sofa, where Mr. Dani was sitting with his grandparents.

"Getishalight." Answer them simultaneously.

Bylla reviewed a bland smile, then sat down next to Miss Mirna. He stared at some neatly arranged parcels on the table. His heart ached again, even to say hello to Mr. Dani alone, he felt reluctant.

"Miss Bylla!" call Mr. Dani.

"Yes Om." Reply Bylla slowly, and briefly.

"This is a delivery from Mr. Kairi, he left it to me. Coincidentally I'll take care of a little work here." Said Mr. Dani.

"Why didn't Papa come here?" ask Bylla.

"Sorry Miss, sir is busy. Soon there's an annual party at Miss Mikayla's college, parents have to be there, Miss." Answer Mr. Dani.

"Mikayla," murmured Bylla while biting her lips.

"I..."

"I received this post, tell Papa, if I like it very much. I'm tired, excuse me!" bylla said cut off Mr. Dani's talk. Then Bylla got up from her seat, and walked away from the living room.

Bylla quickened her pace, she climbed the stairs with increasingly teary eyes.

A few seconds later, Bylla opened the door of her room, she stepped in, and locked herself there.

Bylla sat on the sofa of her room, tears already dripping down her cheeks.

"When do Mom and Dad care about me, when?" bylla murmured while staring at a picture frame located on the table. Photos of her, her sister, and her parents.

Both Bylla's shoulders moved up and down, in tune with her sobbing cries. The blue beads are getting blurry, as tears are getting pooled. His heart was sliced with pain, recalling the bitter reality that had occurred in his life.

A few minutes later, Bylla wiped her tears with both arms. His eyes stared flat at the photo before him. The old wounds gaped again, forcing him to remember the past.

Flas back on

Seriate....