Almahyras
Season 2, Part 1: Why Don't You Bicala Pelnah?

"Dad, I didn't want to talk?"

A little girl with a sweet face and a long mane a little curly, was in Jafar's arms with hands that could not stand still, playing buttons of clothes. Even the little girl's outer mouth was still full of biscuits, the former eating.

"Daddy don't dengelin Dilala bicala, huh?"

For God's sake, dear. Father heard you, Jafar looked at his daughter whom he named Dilara Jahizah with Alma's approval. This little girl who is in her lap has entered after 2 years and 3 months, she is very active.

I don't know why like Lutfan and Salwa. Lots of talking, lots of questioning, and lots of behavior. Worrying indeed. But sometimes Jafar can not keep up with the child. Because of his condition that cannot speak.

Alma ...

That wife. Wh why? Why stay and act like you're okay? Even though he has entered 3 years of therapy, although not routine still. That's medicine, isn't it? His voice sounded a little, but somehow it suddenly failed, his voice seemed to disappear again.

Jafar understood that his efforts would never be in vain. But to repeat the therapy again, it really makes him feel sick. Because he had to trouble his wife again, he could not. Alma had truly devoted her life to serving this useless husband like her.

This marriage which Allah has willed is truly happy. But really, he is still human, the obvious shortcomings make him feel small again.

"Dad ... Dilala bicala I don't want to talk! Dilala be even the same Dad."

Suddenly Jafar felt his back warm. Soft hands and fingertips touch the arms, elbows, and finally the wrists. "yeah! Hahaha, no surprise, kid?"

Alma ... Inner Jafar who still enjoys the warm embrace of Alma who is behind. But this time the wife's hands moved on her shoulders.

"What are you talking to Dad?" Alma's hand poked Dilara's nose. "Mom tell you, dong!"

"Dilala asked Ma to Daddy ginih ..." Alma's hand rubbed the remains of the biscuits outside Dilara's mouth. "Well, why not bicala? Thapre ... I don't want to answer, Ma."

Instantly the smile knot Alma faded. Then it was taken over by Dilara from the embrace of Jafar, and changed to carry the child.

"Hm ... what?"

"Mama also not dengelin Dilala bicala?"

"Listen, but repeat try."

"Dad, don't you want to talk about napa?"

Alma smiled faintly. "How many times did Mama say? If you're sick, then you can't talk to everyone. Not the same, son."

"Thapi Ma, Dad said Dilala can talk even though he said he was sick again" explained Dilara.

Alma was about to open her mouth, asking Dilara to speak again. But suddenly his shoulder was touched, then the big hand dropped rubbing his back. "Dad, isn't Dad a lager? Mama cooked Dad's favorite menu Dilara you know. Wanna eat?" alma.

Jafar nodded.

"No, Dad said he wanted to. Dilara won't?"

"Four dong. Same with Grandma," said Alma.

Netra round Dilara shining. "Fourth? Grandma's coming home at dusk, Mom?"

"This is home."

The breakfast before lunch is over. Ummi Salamah was resting in his room, after returning home to see Mardiyah who said he wanted to eat his cooking. While Dilara was brought to play together by Kirana and Inayah in the boarding park. Actually the two teenage girls were busy helping Ustazah Aini, but had time to play with Dilara.

Then husband. Jafars. Sitting next to him focused on selling outlets that he stayed off for two days.

"What do I want to do?"

Jafar.

"Try typing something."

Jafar can be seen opening Microsoft word and typing there. "I don't want anything."

"You're angry with me?"

Jafar.

"If it's typing something. Let me not conclude the non-non."

Jafar typed again. "Alma, growing bigger than Dilara. He wanted to know my situation. Meanwhile, I can't get him to communicate like a father and son."

Alma. His hand pulled Jafar's right hand in his swabs slowly, then in a moment's kiss. "Yes. It's big in the hall. He's getting pinter. Every day I tell Dilara that her father is sick. God willing, he knows, Mom. If he asks, let me answer them all. I'll give her understanding."

"What else is it, Alma?" type Jafar.

Jafar pulled his hand, unwilling to accept Alma's touch again. "Much, Mas. I can give any understanding to Dilara. All I taught him. You please don't be like this" Alma said.

"You saw, didn't you? That the therapy had no results" type Jafar, again.

"Produce, Mas." Alma. "You can drive another car. And indeed, to speak you have made no progress. I really feel that this therapy is not in vain. Can't you figure that out?"

Jafar kept his hands still not typing.

While Alma justifies his sitting position by leaning back on the sofa and staring straight. "You can't give up. You can definitely talk again. No matter how many years I wait, I won't be tired, Mom."

"So please, don't ever think anything like that" Alma added.