FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 11 “Remembering Hajatan Desa”
*Nizami's Ibban
Tonight I was invited to a tour of the village that was planned to be held two weeks later. Actually it's the third time. But, the proposal of the organization's friends and village elders, Mr. Mustika— Dalang Jatmiko, has not reached an agreement to date. Since the average organizational friends were young, the oldest were still twenty-five years old, I was finally asked by Mas Amrul to mediate that difference of opinion.
“Because it is less than two weeks, I ask with respect Mr. Jatmiko and Mas Nizam to give enlightenment. The hope is the same, nggeh. The event we propose together can be done well. Monggo, Mas Nizam!”
“Assalamu’alaikum warahmatullah.” Dehemated.
I glanced at their faces one by one. Mr. Jatmiko as the most respected in the village, was leaning back and actually started to start his own cigars. That has become his style. When my eyes reached the doorway, the beautiful Mustika with a longer veil than usual, tried to duck down and put two dishes in her arms around her while smiling at me. It just so happened that tonight's meeting was at his house. Mr. Jatmiko is welcome.
“What makes Mr Dalang heavy accept the proposal of friends of the organization?”
“Mas, this is our ancestral culture. I know these friends are religious, but here there are still many sepuh-mbahs that are still very fond of wayang. It is a big mistake if the sampeyan considers puppet not suitable for Islamic events. Yesterday someone said, puppets can not be continuously displayed.”
“Who said that?”
Mas Amrul nudged the arm of Dhuha, the youngest member of the organization, fourteen years old.
“You, Ha?”
He nodded in fear. I actually know what he meant to Jatmiko, but they can't do it well.
“Not inappropriate.”
Mr. Jatmiko cut. “Intinya I only agree puppet show. Hadrah and the lecture were common.”
Problem is this. Mr. Jatmiko is not a religious man. Meanwhile, the invited guests involved are religious leaders. Because, this event is also scheduled for the first time by organizational friends, then in honor of village elders, inevitably must still involve Pak Jatmiko. And the results are often contradictory.
“Begini. If the puppet is called, who is the mastermind?”
Mr. Jatmiko.
“How are you, Mas, Mas. Definitely me. Mustika. This is the most awaited villagers.”
“Sorry before. Or, just like this. Puppet that will be held, but the mastermind is not Mr. Jatmiko. How?”
“What's the problem with me?” The astonishment of half was somewhat offended.
“Ngundang outsiders pay it expensive.”
“Yes too, yes,” whispered Duha to Mas Amrul.
“I'll take care of everything. But, if you want to have two performances, prepare a large fund. Do you have any?”
Mr. Jatmiko is looking for the treasurer's face.
“Saldo last checked how much?” Run towards Mas Qadim.
“Two million three hundred forty thousand.”
“Dan, you will also surely spoil the yai you invited. Right? Let's find the facilities. How does the law make things difficult, Mas Nizam?”
I'm not gonna answer that question.
“If you want to involve the villagers, give them what they like.”
There was no decision after an hour. Want to be stepped over, but Mr. Jatmiko is still an elder who must be respected. But, as if his opinion could not be contested.
“Mas, I first,” says Mas Amrul.
Patted his shoulder. Kumpersilakan.
“Mas Nizam?” A soft voice came from behind me.
He walked with me. All the dirty dishes were in his hands.
“Where are you taking the plate?”
“You're washed. Kan, the bathroom is outside, Mas.”
“Oo.”
“I know, Mas, Father is hard disposition. Real loud. I'm trying to help, yes.”
“Iya. But, the possibility can be persuaded?”
“Ndak know. Tried first. Actually I agree more with all the words of Mas Nizam earlier. Kan, Mas Nizam has also taken the middle path. I also don't want ndak nyinden again in this village.”
“In the outer village still want?”
She smiles. “It's rare to think, Mas. What for Mas Nizam nyinden is prohibited?”
“Everything was initially punished by mubah. Be able. It's just that mafsadah and its benefits are greater mana.”
“What is that, Mas Nizam? What is that too?”
“Mafsadah that damage and slackness are goodness. That's what to consider.”
We keep moving.
“Tilawah is very different from nyinden, yes, Mas.” He often smiles at me.
“But, equally as vocal.”
“How to be different.”
“Iya. The technique is far different. Wh why? Interested in learning njai?”
“But, can you learn to tilawah if njai is still a blow?”
“How much juz?”
“Juz ten. Never been khatam.”
“Or, you ever want to join njai in pesantren?”
“Request permission first with manager there.”
“Mas Nizam well. I'm waiting for news, Mas.”
“Lusa insyaallah.”
“I love singing. You introduced me to the chatter from when I was four years old. Until it's ingrained. The melancholy mascumine. Gambuh also likes. Mas Nizam has developed it?”
I just respond to a smile.
“My question must be wrong. Lawong from small Mas Nizam more often live in pesantren, right? Definitely the desired wife candidate also in the pesantren as well. Yes to, Mas?”
“The pair are one vision and mission. Because the goal is the same.”
Three steps later he did not respond.
“I first, Tik. Assalamu’alaikum?”
I didn't wait for him to answer the greetings.
“Mas Nizam?”
I looked back.
“You want me to make a dandanggula chat?”
I'm giving a thumbs up. Then, the smile curved very wide. Symmetrical smile with perfect lip thickness.
There's an incoming message. I read while walking.
“Pak, njenengan really want to move?”
^^^“Insyaallah Yes, Sister Rubi.”
^^^
“So we're the same, sir. I have also prepared a move to Tulungagung.”
^^^“But, I heard you didn't join CPNS.”
^^^
“No, Mr. Nizam. All families move home.”
^^^“Serius?”
^^^
“Serious sure dong, sir. Move to the birthplace. Hopefully the location of Mr. Nizam's mukim is not far from me. God willing I moved it to Sumbergempol.”
^^^“May be made easy, Mbak.”
^^^
He may have already replied to her message. Mobile drop.
“Busy from where?”
Nurin was beside my mother. The candy in her hand silenced Nurin's mouth which I thought would be offensive to Mustika. Because he once talked about Mustika.
“Business to talk to you at home.”
“What way, Buk?”
Mother's eyes glanced at Nurin.
“What about Mas Bayu? Mas Bayu already told or how?” my inner.
Only ten minutes later.
“Nurin to room now, Ngger (the most subtle call addressed to a child),” pinta ibuk.
“Nurin want to watch tivi, Ti.”
“But, don't be hard, yes, Ngger.”
Nurin nyelonong's.
My mom and I sat together.
“What Ibuk wants..”
“Iya, Zam. Why don't you talk to Ibuk if your Mas is going to split up? I'm disappointed, Zam.” My clear eyes are glazed.
I switched seats.
We cuddled.
“How's Nurin, Zam?” Ibuk.
“I told Mas Bayu to consider it again. But, Mas Bayu has been steadily choosing the path of parting.”
“If your Father is still alive, you will be disappointed. Your masmu was told the school did not want to, in the end yes this way. Just living in a household is like playing something. Ibuk does not need company if he is not an adult to face his personal problems with your mother, Zam. Better off on their own, but they're happy. I feel sorry for Nurin. And, Ibuk does not want to split with Nurin.”
Mum looked at me. Gripping both of my shoulders.
“Nurin the only grandson of Ibuk, Zam.”
“I'm moving soon, but it's like this.”
“Buk, Ibuk just calm down. Prayer of a mustajab. Pray for Bayu, Buk. Praying her. Whatever I want, I tell God. Everything is fine.”
Mother is a typical thinker woman. Moreover, this concerned the life of his son. I also feel like I failed at being a mother. The disappointment I feel today is certainly much greater than my feelings at the time.