DIFFERING
Chap 48 (Inquiry)

...Like a sea full of mystery. But it holds so much beauty in it. Not everyone can see that beauty....

What was once in his mind turned out to be real. The challenge a moment ago still clearly sounded out loud in both ears. How Miranti yelled at him. Banning what he just decided. Everything became blurred when he saw a disappointed look that clearly emanated in both Miranti netra. Anger was also very domineering on the middle-aged woman's face.

As of this morning, the atmosphere is still not conducive. Even at the dinner table when the three people had breakfast, they were still both speechless. Until Varo went first before finally choosing to take a mini bus to school. The morning should have been bright, he started with a bad heart. But unexpectedly, upon arrival at the school Varo saw Ustadz stepping towards the mosque. Unbeknownst to Varo, he followed in his unconscious steps Ustadz who had entered the school mosque. Then he waited in the mosque while playing his fingers. Feels, weird. Nervousness is also a more dominant fear, for whatever reason.

From where he sat, Varo could see every movement of prayer that Ustadz was working on. Until unknowingly, Varo's lips lifted thinly. Until his neutrals met the two Ustadz beads that had just stepped out.

"Assalamu'alaikum."

"Wa'alaikumsalam Ustadz" said Varo, kissing the back of Ustadz's hand.

Ustadz smiled as he sat next to Varo. Both were accompanied for a long time by silence. Until Varo's voice came out accompanied by the pounding of his heart that was getting crazy. "Ustadz, can I ask you something?"

"Can. What do you want to ask?"

Silent. The question he had wanted to ask before seemed to disappear. His tongue felt like he was just opening his voice. Until the clap on his shoulder diverted his almost running consciousness. "Ask what makes you doubt, son. In Allah if I can answer, I will answer."

Varo smiled gently. Then facing his seat facing perfectly towards Ustadz. the two face each other. With a single breath, Varo opened his voice. The next second was able to make Ustadz smile widely.

"I'm sorry if my question is presumptuous, Ustadz. Actually I've been looking for the answer for a long time, and now Varo wants to ask Ustadz-"

"What is God really like? How does it exist? Did Ustadz ever meet him?"

"Have you ever seen the air? No, but you can feel the air. That's God. Allah is in the heart of those who believe."

"Would I tell you about the story of Muhammad's friend who got the same question as this one of yours, Varo?" continued Ustadz who replied with a nod.

"A Christian scholar once asked Ali ibn Abi Talib, asking 'where is Allah?' Ali did not answer directly. He just lit a fire. Then he asked 'What is the front or face of this fire?' The scholars observed the fire until they answered 'the whole side of the fire can be considered as the front or the face, there is no back and no front' Ali replied 'When fire alone is a creation of God that does not have a specific front, then its creator has absolutely no likeness to Him. More than that front and back, west and east, just eyes from God, wherever you face, that is the face of God. And none of it is hidden from him."

Ustadz patted Varo on the shoulder before standing up. "If there is anything you ask again, come to the Al-Fatih boarding school. I was there."

"Thank you Ustadz, next time I go there."

Like there is a strong bond that makes Varo's heart feel free from the heavy burden that binds. As Ustadz lost his sight, Varo's shoulders sank. His breathing is heavy. And closed his eyes.

Give me the best path, Lord.

...)( ...

This week his routine after school just languished in the room. But not just to keep quiet. Inside, there were thoughts that kept haunting him. I don't know what feelings make him calm and anxious when listening to a lecture about what Islam is that he always heard in Youtub gawainya. However, tonight he ventured to meet Mama-Miranti. Discussing things that he knows are very sensitive.

The net caught the mother who was reading a magazine in the middle room. Slowly along with the heartbeat that is no longer normal, the steps he brought closer.

"Ma!"

Miranti turned her head, patting the chair next to her for Varo to sit down. "There's something you want to talk about" Miranti said flatly still staring at her magazine.

The two hands were squeezing each other. Nervous? Evidently. Feeling the response of his unfriendly mother made his guts shrivel. But, if not soon Varo is afraid it will be too late. And everything could be destroyed.

"I-I want to talk about yesterday."

"What about yesterday?"

Miranti's sharp netra right pierced both of Varo's netra up to his cover. Swallowing his saliva rough until a few sentences were raised it brought great affection. "On me wanting to know Islam, ah not - exactly I want to convert to Islam, Ma."

In that instant, Varo could see both of Miranti's hands squeezing the magazine tightly. Not spared with his empty gaze but full of disappointed conditions.

"Sorry, Ma. Varo asks Mama for prayers and blessings."

"I apologize to Jesus! Not the same Mama," replied Miranti coldly who then left Varo alone there. Accompanied by the sunyinya space that increasingly attached his heart that felt sliced.

The longevity of the capital he visited now had no effect after the incident a while ago which was still ringing. Mama's voice continues to buzz it beats the noise of the vehicle tonight.

After Miranti left just like that, Varo opted out. Walking that I don't know where to go. Until the light from the side also the car horn that told him to pull over he did not let go. Just as a few footsteps of the car reached him, his hand was forcefully pulled by someone who was suffocating hysterically.

BUGH

Both are on asphalt. It took a few seconds until Varo's consciousness rose again. Seeing the figure that helped him earlier was sitting while patting his dirty clothes.

"Son is okay? There's a wound, isn't there?"

Varo blinked, then stood up. Scratching his non-itchy nape. Stupid, he almost lost his life. "Hey, Brother! There was a wound, which one? Need to go to the hospital, right?"

"Ah-no. Are you injured?"

The girl shook her head. "But that, Brother's elbow is bleeding."

Varo only realized if the blood droplets flowing from his elbow that turned out to be wound. Just wanted to make a sound, the figure in front of him had interjected first. "We're doing medicine first, brother. There's a stall selling red medicine. Come on!"

Varo could not dodge when the girl walked ahead. Until both of them sat on the back of the stall. "Here, I'll help you, brother."

"I can, I can."

"It's okay let me, it'll be hard later."

It didn't take long, the wound I had on me was covered in plaster. The two were long enough silent in the silence that accompanied. Before long, Varo's voice came out. "Whose name are you?"

"Emm Sahira Sister. What's your brother's name?"

"Alvaro."

"Oh, um can I call Brother Al?"

"Can. It's up to you."

"So, why didn't you step aside. The car has been honking repeatedly. Brother, there's no intention to commit suicide, is there?"

Sahira's innocent speech managed to make Varo chuckle. "Yes, no. It's ridiculous to die young, kill yourself again."

"Yes, kirain."

"Why Brother?" ask Sahira nervously. Because, Varo had been staring at him as if something was wrong with him.

"May I ask you something, right?"

"Ask me a time, brother."

"You, muslim?"

Sahira was astonished, how could Varo ask the obvious the answer is yes. Just by looking at the clothes that the girl was wearing. But instead of answering, Sahira laughed. Laughing at the question was also Varo's innocent-looking face.

"Kok laughing? Is something funny?"

"Yes his sister is strange," Sahira replied still with a ruckus.

"I'm serious, are you Muslim?"

In that instant, Sahira fell silent. Sculpting. Observing the look on Varo's face. There were no jokes there, only serious facial expressions.

Slowly, the head nodded along with a faint smile. "Yes, I'm a Muslim sister."

From here, without Sahira asking - he knew that the young man he had just known was not the same as him.

"Why do all Muslim women wear closed clothes? Like you wear for example. Always cursing the head cover as well, aren't you sultry?"

Sahira was stunned to get a question like that which clearly answered his estimate, and really this brother he met is not Muslim.

"In Islam, we as women must wear closed clothes to cover our awrah, Brother. As Allah has commanded in the Quran. So that all Muslim women close their aurat so as not to cause slander. A woman in Islam is like a queen. Which not everyone can see."

"Also what you mean by the head covering is hijab, brother. To cover a woman's crown, which is hair. As Sahira said, not everyone can see the crown. It could be just mahramnya. Women in Islam are very guarded sanctity. All the bodies of the women were aurat except for her face and palms. So, that is the glory of women in Islam that Allah has set. God has arranged it all to preserve the sanctity of women, Sister."

Sahira smiled sincerely afterwards. Seeing the pain in Varo makes Sahira smile amusedly.

"For example, Kak Al has seen roadside snacks such as fried foods without plastic as well as bread snacks that have been wrapped neatly with plastic?"

"Yes," replied Varo as he nodded slowly.

"Well, you often see that fried people like to be infested by flies?"

Again, Varo nodded. "What does the wrapped bread mean to the flies?"

"No."

"So, you want to choose fried foods that are not wrapped until touched by flies or bread that has been wrapped but not infested by flies? Which one, brother?"

"Clearly choose that bread, because it's still hygenic."

"Well, I know Al's smart. That's the parable, brother. We as women should close what should not be exhibited. In Islam, women are very holy and noble."

In that instant, Varo smiled widely along with the warmth that slowly spread inside his recess.  "Thank you, Sahira."

...)( ...

The VVIP room was quiet again after the sound that had been out had stopped. The sound of the clock ticking inside there fills the awkward back present. It's been almost two hours both of them sitting there. The clock continued to walk until the sound of the Adzan split the silence that had been created.

"Shalat maghrib first. If you want to continue the story, the grave will be finished tonight."

Varo nodded. His pale face smiled sincerely. "Thank you, I'd like to hear everything."

"Not everything," Zoya said, standing up.

"I'm going to Mushala first."

After the door opens, Zoya finds Galih still standing next to the door. God, did that man stand there for two more hours?

Take a moment, then go inside. Letting Zoya step back into the mushala Cafe.

"Sir, is it okay?" galih said in a panic when almost Varo staggered when he wanted to stand if Galih could not stand it.

"Hm."

"But the face of Mr-"

"I'm going to Mushala. Don't talk too much!"

Galih snorted, following his master from behind. Be awake if only the Master suddenly collapsed.

After the prayer, Zoya thought he would get a continuation of the story from Varo. But in reality he had to be stuck in the car with the two men. Where the figure beside him was still moaning in pain. Since the completion of the prayer, Varo really made him anxious about Varo's body which suddenly collapsed in the VVIP room. Zoya and Galih attempt to get Varo into the car with a lost consciousness. Right now the pain in Varo's heart is getting deeper. Cold sweat also washed his entire body.

"To the hospital, yes" said Zoya for the umpteenth time. And again, only the trunks he got.

"Master, to the house"

"Apartment, Galih!" seloroh Varo's. His soft voice could still be heard. And only a nod can Galih give. Free of charge, he knew very well that his Master was very stubborn and indisputable.

"Yes, we're going home. Not to the hospital," said Zoya while cleaning cold sweat that soaked Varo's face with tissue.

Varo pressed his stomach that was getting squeezed tight, making hiss come out just like that. And that, made the two people who were there even more anxious.

Without a second thought, Zoya grabbed her goal. Remembering someone who once gave him a business card. Until the message was sent.

If Varo doesn't want to go to the hospital, there's no possibility of calling the doctor who came to the house, right?

...♡♡♡...

...Again with Varo:(...

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