DESTINY IS NOT WRONG
No Need to Blaspheme the Sky
“This is what I mean maybe one day I can help you in another way. And it is like this that you can change destiny with your own hands. For he will not change the fate of his people, if his people will not change their own destiny. Proven death that you can create, from your hands, and this is what I can dedicate to you, about the fate of Luis' death that must indeed die in my hands, Haidar!”
From behind the iron bars the sound appeared and shocked me who was almost asleep, my eyes trying to gather light reactions that made me glare. I tried to capture the shadow from the source of the sound. Apparently ‘si guard night’ spoke behind a cell, his face staring far out.
“Why do you take people's lives, what for?! And I didn't tell you to take revenge!!”
“I myself stem all my emotions every time you tell me about Amel, Luis and your way of life that took me by storm, and I feel what if I was in your position, Haidar!!”
“Thank you for your solidarity as a friend, but this is not the way out. And you know what the fate of my father was when I left him in a critical state?! Huh uh?! Do you feel it too?! Do you know that?!!”
“Why else with your dad?!”
“Kritis!”
In the darkness of the holding room I tried to calm my mind, and hoped that luck would help me to get out of a place I had never been in my dreams. Dark, the eyes of the other prisoners were so sharp, wild and savage.
“You don't need that kind of emotion Haidar, tears open your way to redeem destiny, spread your wings flapping stronger and fly like an Eagle. Even if your wing is hurt, but it's only temporary.”
This is when I cannot blame anyone, and I know how solidarity Junaidi Abdillah will defend her friend to death, regardless of her own condition.
I dim my anger in the istighfar, I take a deep breath, as I close my eyes and let these tears drip, not because I am weak but this is how I drive away the anxiety, is haram?!
I am still prejudiced by what is abundant me, the condition of my father who is sick, my soul mate who is only a lifetime of corn, and my dreams are still stored neatly in the locker ‘papan’.
Heeem, it is not easy to climb Mount Rinjani, I have to pass through a steep ravine, the condition of the terrain complete with aral that accompanies every step I take to get to the top, do not rule out the possibility of a wild beast that I have to conquer during the journey, or I lost being pounced on and my body torn apart with its fangs?! I will tell the sky that I am still standing.
“Trust Haidar, “Verily Allah will not change the fate of a people unless the people themselves change what is in them. And you need to know! There is a destiny that is already listed in Lahul Mahfudz and there is also a destiny that can indeed change and can also be the decree of God.
Let the bad destiny, the destiny that I consider Mu’alaq that I change myself and not be the will of God but the choice that I take. Just want you to know, even if someone's death can be created by ourselves, even though in reality it is wrong. And those who strive earnestly (for fulfilling the will of Our religion), verily We will lead them into Our ways and verily (help and assistance) Allah is with those who seek to improve their practices
“So I have to fix my charity?”
“Clearly! Just doing good and continuing to’a assured of the promise of God, he will change the destiny that we consider is bad, there is no cruel destiny, only we have the right to determine it, he said, the rest of you must believe in the promise of God that is not the same as the promise of your ex-wife, who still reneges on the promise of her jab and qabul.
By Allah, there will be a reckoning from God that he will face, not in the world, so prepare the eternal reckoning of God in the future. My one message is Haidar, patrican in you that God is what you mean, ask for His Ridho, so that you will fall in love with your Lord and will know who He is.”
“But what about you?!”
“Let me make this life choice, prison is not the end of everything for me.”
“But you didn't tell me the chronoligist of all this!”
“You told me about Luis, the hostesses where they did that fun thing! From there enough I find out, the location of the boarding house and it is not easy, but I have a progress of life, I have a target and I have a mature plan, to do this all.
Don't call my name Junaidi Abdillah, if you can't track down Luis and Amel's macem. And just so you know, that Luis likes to change partners. At first I wanted to kill the life of your ex-wife who had trampled your head, but she was a woman, haram for me took the lives of children and women.
A whole month I was looking for them, and I lured Luis out using a sexy woman's facebook account, and I seduced him, until finally the Unge, my fake account name, and, women with enough profile pictures make men sweat, including Luis and I keep wooing him to come face to face, I hire a paid woman to pretend to be Unge, until Luis' mischievous and foolish behavior he unknowingly falls into my trap.
The next day, I began to observe Luis' behavior, starting from his habit of going out at night, unbeknownst to your ex-wife.
When everything was off guard and I thought it was safe, including me noticed that all the residents of the boarding house were almost average friends of Luis. With different professions, I did location mapping for my execution, Luis in my own hands.
And you don't have to worry, 'cause I told you that I work alone, and that hired woman let her feel the cold of the cell for a while, think of it as a lesson for him to repent of his bad behavior accustomed to star hotels, and air conditioning and luxury mattresses. In prison he will learn to live.
I learned a lot from the results of googling, about the Yakuza-style massacre, the loud songs of Thufail Al Ghifari that became my influance to move. Hahahah.I animate once to be a murderer even though it is still considered amateur. Soon you will come out and feel the free air, embroider your destiny in the wild which I consider more savage than prison.”
Not felt, the voice of Adhan Dawn closed the conversation, and we also had time to pray for hours’ah together, just breakfast. Until finally, a raucous voice cut through my last seconds with Junaidi Abdillah.
“Haidar out!”
I got assurances from my best friend Imam Yuniarto, but still I have to report regularly every Tuesday. With a heavy heart I left ‘si guard malam’ alone in the holding cell, and I owe him.
I give thanks for the pleasure of freedom that I feel is more valuable than languishing behind bars. Although I admit many great people like Syaid Qutub, Hasan Al Banna, Ibn Taymiyyah, Dr. Yusuf al-Qaradawi, Shech Ahmad Yasin, Buya Hamka, Tan Malaka, but they embrace prison not a criminal case but become politically resistant, the highest strata in the circle of inmates, not prisoners just for killing, he said, corruption or other criminal activity.
Whatever it is that smells of prison, for me I will imprison also the time and dreams that have been planned, and to enter the prison is not included in the target dream that I must embroider. Thank God, even though one night I have found how the atmosphere of the air in it.
Spies with sharp highlights, such as wanting to stab, a cruel smile as if to finish off a friend in prison, such as the law of the jungle, who is strong he who will be the head of the room, and who is strong, that's the term.
After I left with the investigation team, the warden and some people I knew one night in the jail cell. But there is a strange, “Where is Junaidi Abdillah?!” Not long after, when my eyes looked wildly looking for where my best friend was, emerging from behind bars.
“Haidaaaaaaar!!! Keep dreaming!!!! Best friends with your destiny!!”Shouted Dillah loudly,
until the prison guards calmed him down, like the soldiers in the East
Out of the door of the police station, as if I saw the hot sun become a soul of its own for me to challenge the time, making my chest full of enthusiasm because it had felt in the shackles of a vacuum and untouched by sunlight.
We who breathe free air like this is saturated, what else are those who are only friendly to the walls of the prison room. As for my own fare given by Mas Imam, just one time riding the angkot I have reached the lip of the alley to the house.
“There is a yellow flag?!” I asked with a rumbling feeling and I just stepped foot from the mini bus that took me home.
As much as possible I ran, passing the alley through the crowd of people who saw me strange, although some people know who I am, because social activities make me a person who is known by many people. From the mimicry and the way they spoke it seemed to have learned the news that was pouring over me,
unlike Junaidi Abdillah whose arrest nobody knows. However, from the smiles of some people I met, it was like looking at me for pity. What's the matter exactly?!
At the end of the road, even though the distance is still far away, many people gather in front of my house. My feelings were already suspecting the sad news about my father, who I lived in a critical state last night.
By separating the existing sweat, and the remaining energy I try to keep running even though this breath is neglected, the closer the distance the more makes my heart beat erratically. All my body felt helpless and helpless I kept running small to get to the front door of the house.
“Ayaaaaah!!”
The body drooped on the bed, pale and lifeless. I approached the body that was once burly, now no different.
“Ayaaaaaah!!!
I told you, don't leave me before you kiss Hajar Aswad!
Why can't dad fight his pain?!!”
This time I could not hold back the tears, I cried sobbing, even though it was excessive. This is my way of expressing my frustration, the annoyance of a son who could not accompany the moments of Malikal Death greeting and taking away my father's spirit. Sincere not sincere, ridho and not ridho though, I still
sorry I have not had time to explain this intention to send my father to the Grand Mosque, even though only a small hajj that he can fulfill.
“Ayaah, we still have a dream that has not paid off.” I continued to lament over the body and her red lips that still echoed a smile.
And I hugged Mamah's body so tightly, only she was still separated for me, which I had to keep promises and dreams for her.
“Sabar Bang” Mama called me as Brother, because the first child
“...You boys don't act like girls. Everywhere a man should be strong. This is already circumcision, there is life and there is death, there is a meeting there must be separation, and rest assured God separate us in the world, certainly wants to bring us together in eternal meeting in the hereafter.”
This woman who is always wet with letters Al-Mulk and Al-Wagiyah is trying to comfort me. And I'm sure he himself could not hold back tears, because I knew how crybaby Mamah was. But not for today, he looks strong even though his heart is hard hit by the loss of the person who accompanied him twenty-five years more. Not a short time, sweet, sour and bitter life they have felt.
I only had an hour to see Dad's body before being buried, considering he breathed his last at exactly twelve in the night, before I left Dad was dead, too, enduring the pain of death, which an Apostle himself cannot endure when the soul is released from the body.
Closed is already a living manuscript that each title has a continuation that we ourselves never know and guess what it will be like. He is the Supreme Sixth Sense whose plan is more mature than human science, even though there are world-class psychics who are able to predict with the ancient books which are said to be the result of the Sumerian prophecy with a sexagesimal count.
Or compete like Final Destination a work of Jefrrey Reddick who is able to deceive death and can avoid death with the power of his mind, is the fate of death like that? Who does not know the President of America, John F. Kenedy whose safety and death are guaranteed, apparently Malikal Death is more capable of aiming until he ends up lifeless.
Various interpretations of destiny, some think that it is the prerogative of God that cannot be contested, he said, there are also those who think that destiny is not the interference of God even once and that this is the last group who consider that whatever our behavior is contained in the rules of God, they are, there are also those who involve God, we have the right to choose and change.
I'm sure there's no effect without the musabab that accompanies it all, the father's death was the result of the cause because he was sick, and could have been avoided if there was an effort we did, he said, he took her to the hospital and prayed. However, there is cause and effect as a rule of God that is so Just.
Father's death has become the rule of Allah, He is Count and Count, He is the Sabab of all causes that can change it. Long contemplation over Father's final rest, I will follow him only when the time comes to rest all these burdens, burdens
what I have to live and be grateful for, because this sheet continues and continues to be broken, until it is time to temporarily close this story with my own death. Because, the afterlife is never recorded, or this story will be louder later?
Wallahu...
Now only on the prayer mat I rest this brain that I unceasingly use to think, I demand my heart to be a safe heart, slowly I have to learn. Even to forget all the memories with Dad for life I will not be able to erase in memory.
ALLAHUMMAGH
LAHU WA TSABBIT - HU
“Yes Allah, forgive him and strengthen him (to answer angel questions)”
Buried all the memories with Dad who is now calm in a long bed, the rose water will always be wet and fragrant, seven flowers will continue to be the color in the frame of my life.
Only do’a that I say, may Allah forgive all sins and receive all the good deeds that he has planted, so that he will not break up until the end of the day. As I stepped away from my father's last pusara, a sprig of frangipani leaves fell right on his tombstone, as if marked that Dad sincerely faced Allah SWT and released his loved ones.
Goodbye
Ayahand.....