FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 4 “Sabda Ibu”
*Nizami's Ibban
“Move you really far to, Zam. Once upon a time when you were on the list, you didn't talk about this with Ibuk. If you are accepted there, Ibuk will be alone here.”
“As far as I go, Ibuk is the only one in Nizam.”'s heart A single old man whose sweat is like pearls.
Want to tell you about Mas Bayu's divorce, but I postponed it. I definitely do not know and will be his own crime. Not to mention that Nurin was busy eating her favorite balado eggs. So far Nurin has also been quite understanding that both parents are less harmonious.
“Buk will bless. On condition that you can show your future wife before you leave there.”
The spoon contender who would love to lift back about the plate.
“Buuuk?” I called slowly.
“Paklek, Ma'am Wardah is beautiful, yes?” chirps Nurin suddenly.
Mom and I agreed to look.
“Who is Wardah, Dek?”
“That's a beautiful Mbak. The veil is always the flowers. His son Mbok Mujiati.” Considering thus.
So often Nurin in this village, he has memorized two names that I do not even know.
“Who are they, Buk?”
“Zam, you don't pretend to forget this beautiful village girl. She's a dancer.”
I suddenly remembered. What is it that I do not care about the women in this village. The famous village woman I forgot to recognize. Two years after returning from the University of Gajah Mada studied strata one and strata two, I did not pay much attention to the observant women in the organization PAC IPPNU. Moreover, it was Mustika who did not join in.
“But, as I recall she is not veiled.”
“It was. He is like santri now. When it comes to the war, it has always been polite. Since Istiqamah wears a veil, she looks more polite.”
From the way he spoke, it seemed like he was trying to make me excited to respond further.
“As I recall his name is also not Wardah, but Mustika Rahayu.” One statement escaped to please momuk.
“Front name, yes, that Wardah. If you do not know, acquaintance, gih. Very nice if you want acquaintance, Le.” I returned to scooping the food.
I'm still trying to bring up the memory of the past. How true Mustika was when I was in junior high school, how bad he was until he used to be loved by young people except me. As beautiful as she is, the fact is that she has not been married until now. In fact, he was only three years younger than me.
“Ibuk know you the level must be a smart one, Zam. Yes, right?”
“But to know where it is?”
“You told Ibuk to look for a woman who is as strong as you. Forgot?”
The lips are automatically attracted.
“So, sometimes Ibuk is his dream of heights, Zam. Ibuk will have a daughter-in-law who is good at tilawah.Quran is good. Beautiful as tall as you, Le. Or, maybe you will be helped by Yai, Zam.” He exclaimed in the last sentence. How could I suddenly think of that. Meanwhile, I have never written the criteria for a consort candidate from a pesantren.
But once I asked God for a hope. Perhaps one day I will be met with a Quranic memorizer whose recitation is mutqin.
“Zam, according to Ibuk you also pantes kok, Le, so the daughter-in-law of Bu Nyai and Pak Yai. What do you think, Le?”
No rice on the plate is finished.
“His credit is spent first. Talk to you later.” I slide the glass in front of my mother.
“Nurin ravenously?” I approached his serious face. From that moment his mouth was silent.
He just nodded. Hand smudges. His fingers enter his mouth. The rest of the balado seasoning is still dirtying his hands. He showed me his teeth. Get off the chair, run to the kitchen. The sound of water then came.
I stacked our plates. Then, sip water in the glass. Saying hamdalan along with burping out.
“Lha said Ibuk wanted me to be the ghost of Mr. Yai, kok, invite Mustika everything for what?”
“Stupid no one knows. Wardah is a dancer, but she can also teach.” a little
“Business has heard?”
“But.”
“Hmmm.”
“But, Zam, it's natural that Wardah isn't good at salary. His father was dalang wayang. They prioritize ancestral culture rather than taking care of their children can pay or not. Already thank goodness Wardah now Istiqamah closes aurat.”
“She still gets frequent responses?”
“Still. Every time his father is asked to ndalang, Wardah who becomes a dancer or sindennya.”
I am enthusiastic to answer my questions.
Still accompanied by a stack of books. For three days now, I intend to close the treatise on Sayyidati Khadijah r.a, the only wife of his who obtained the perfection of love for His Majesty the Prophet. Because, Sayyidati Khadijah r.a became the only woman who accompanied him to fight for Islamic preaching before marrying Sayyidatina Aisyah. Only after the death of Sayyidati Khadijah r.a, His Majesty married Sayyidati Aisyah who had not cooked her date. Do you resemble Sayyidati Khadijah r.a? A woman who is willing to give all her world to a loved one.
“Basic singles.” I smiled listening to that whisper.
The twilight sullens the fingertips to open the next sheet. Still in a state of wudu. I took the Koran on the shelf attached to the wall right in front of me. Despite being busy at all times, taking the time to read the Koran is an obligation.
One maqra’ QS. Al-Kahfi's last half page I finished reading in eleven minutes. Tomorrow ba’da dawn, I have to mruput (very early in the morning) to the small salaf boarding school adjacent to the village to teach the maqra’ to the princess santri there. It is time to change maqra’ after yesterday completed in maqra’ surat ar-rum.
Santri-santri princess who amounted to about forties was on average already proficient in reading the Quran so as not to make it difficult for me to teach maqra’ with a slightly difficult tonal variation or with a high scale. Yesterday it only took three months with regular meetings once a week on Sundays.
“Paklik Nizam, come to the mosque!” Nurin tilted her head between the open doors.
“You're ready, Dek?”
“I'm diligent, Paklik.”
I gave him a smile. I got up while pulling a skullcap at the table.
“Paklek already wudu?”
I nodded.
“May Paklik later meet with Mbak Wardah beautiful.”
I took his little body.
“Whose beauty is like, Rin?”
“Like me dong, Paklek.”
I pinched his puffed cheek.
Dan, that's right. On the way to the mosque, he walked there alone. Offering a smile arch to Nurin who called out to him first. Nurin's hand automatically pulled my arm. Mother who had walked in front turned her head while giggling.
“Mbak Wardah is familiar with Paklek Nizam, right?”
Mustika looked at me for a moment. Then, nodded with a curious look at Nurin's wok. Seeing the happy Nurin, I could not bear to forbid her to act as she wished.
“Why are you alone, Tik? Where's Your Father?”
Mustika just smiled faintly. Nod before you excuse me.
I furrowed my eyebrowsWhy is there something wrong with my question?