FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 63 "The Faith of Love"

*Nizami's Ibban

I've been fluttering for a long time over the prayer rug. Maybe I've had twenty minutes. I twisted and continued to spin the ninety-nine lumber roundabout. All I heard was a sizzling sentence from my own mouth. I hold back from closing my eyes.

"I need your guidance, O God." There is a line between the pauses of my breath that is increasingly long. And, finally my heart was like being hit by a spear from the front. Maybe it's time to make my mom happy. I followed my mother's request. I try to strengthen my own heart, choosing which ones will be good for my future life. There is no loss for anyone who prioritizes a reanglala-scattered angel named mother.

It's better if I become a realistic and idealistic man. Look at what is clear in front, then leave the mirage in the shadows. All that is spoken, then to me is the commandment of God. In fact, leaving circumcision in order to fulfill the call of the mother is allowed. I don't want to be a Jurais who was inflicted with reinforcements' for ignoring her mother's call. So he was hit by slander that cornered him as a man who impregnated women who came after his mother said a prayer.

"Sorry," my inner.

It doesn't feel like it's almost dawn. I took my Koran. Exercise one maqrak for the preparation of musabaqah next month. In addition, practicing in the morning can also improve the sound quality itself. In the middle of the maqrak, I looked. I immediately said tasdiq with a bayyati song.

I brought my prayer mat. Ten minutes of dawn should be heard. I walked five minutes to the musala.

"Pak Nizam as his own way. Mbok is looking for a companion for life" said the priest of the musala who usually bestows the badal on me. Suddenly he spelled out a step on my left side.

"Pangestune mawon, sir." (Please pray restunha, sir)

"How was your son's household at the time?"

"The son of the Father was very upset. You know he disagrees when introduced to his mother's choice of santri. Thank God she is now five weeks pregnant." The Imam touched my shoulder. "Pak Nizam, basically yo ndak need if you want to obey the word parents. Lawong yo, that's good."

The Imam mentions a hadith that explains three mustajab prayers.

ثَلاَثُ دَعَوَاتٍ يُسْتَجَابُ لَهُنَّ لاَ شَكَّ فِيهِنَّ دَعْوَةُ الْمَظْلُومِ وَدَعْوَةُ الْمُسَافِرِ وَدَعْوَةُ الْوَالِدِ لِوَلَدِهِ

"Rak ngggeh ngoten, sir?" (Is that right, sir?)

"Yes, Mr. Imam."

Mother's prayer is one of the reasons for the rapid imposition of prayer. What am I waiting for? The Hadith explained very clearly. On what will I continue to insist? For my mother's prayers and blessings, love is certainly not the reason for my decision to be postponed.

After the dawn prayer, I went to find vegetables. It's simple because I live alone too. Sop chicken claw with soy sauce sauce will be the breakfast manu that I will make. Kabetulan also has two female neighbors who are also heading to the vegetable subscription.

"Mas Nizam is lo, handsome and self-cooked again. O Allah, if Mas Nizam wants to go to Mom's house. I cook a lot of lo every day."

"Thank you very much, Mom. I'm a regular." I gave them a smile.

All the shopping women are watching me. Among the six of them, I am the only male. The vegetable was also elderly.

"Kok what's been used to living alone to, Mr Nizam? I think yesterday-yesterday there were some apples coming," said another.

I can only smile. I lift a white crackle containing a quarter kilo of chicken meat filled with claws and wings. I'm picking it. Then, one crackle contains cabbage, celery leaves, and carrots. When I saw one of those mothers who raised broccoli, I was also interested in buying it.

"Count everything, Mom." I took out my wallet. Five-pick thousand in my hand. I gave it to the seller.

I remember the chillies in the kitchen were over.

"Take it all away."

The seller nodded. Immediately then reduce the number of sheets that he will give me.

"Snapjeh. Thanks, Mom."

"Mom, Mother, I'm sorry, nggeh. Come!"

"Yes, Mr. Nizam. Yeah." yeah." So answer them in unison. Ending with a giggling laugh.

As soon as I got home I immediately cooked it because I also had to teach three morning SKS. While waiting for the boiling water to boil the carrots and broccoli first, I swept the entire room up to the terrace. At home, my mother was used to doing all the work alone without complaining. In fact, never told his son. I learned to be a mother when away from her lap. There's nothing wrong if I can take care of the housework even though I'm a man. After all, it was also common for me to do it first when serving in ndalem kiai. Santri putra who became a ndalem servant also has been used to receive messengers cooking favorite food kiai or bu nyai, in addition to their duties as a driver.

Phone's ringing.

📞"Buk, is it really healthy?"

📞"Alhamdulillah. Sane, Zam."

📞"Look, Buk."

📞"Piye (how), Zam?"

📞"Commend. I'll carry out Ibuk's orders."

📞"Every step you take, Ibuk will try to give you the best prayer. It's time, Le. Your father there must have understood too. Marriage is also a place for a pair of humans to continue the talabul ilmi. Bener opo ora jare Ibuk (really what does Ibuk say)?"

📞"Yes, Buk. Thank you very much, Buk."

My mother's advice to me, I made it my strength and outlook on life. Gesture direction. I should have given it long ago. My mother never asked for anything from me. Asking for the thing that told me to sacrifice. While in struggling to produce both children after the death of the father, mother never expressed her complaints. Basmalah and salawat as much as possible to start a decision that God willing I will do tonight. I will forget my own feelings.

📞"Already, yes, Buk. I'm cooking again. Assalamualaikum."

I closed it right away. Mobile phone in my short shirt pocket.

Thirty minutes later. Breakfast was good and the house was clean. I lifted the soup that was still in the cauldron onto the wooden board.

I went to take a shower. The shower was always in line, now deserted. Suddenly remembered the time in the pesantren. Kiai Karim two years ago. Especially the boarding school I used to enter when I was in high school. Only when I safari ramadan for twenty days nyantri in the boarding school in Magetan, also when bu nyai is performing Umrah worship. I miss the teachers too.

Twenty minutes later at once the prayer duha two rakaat.

Someone knocked on the door later. I did not lift the plate. I'm going to check who's coming.

"Wa'alaikumussalam warahmatullah."

He looked me straight in the eye. I was shocked to see him suddenly standing in front of me. I just talked about it yesterday with my mom. It seems like there's no way he'll ever see me. Apparently I was wrong. He's reckless. And, of course, he went to Tulungagung alone without his parents' permission.

"I'm sorry if I bother Mas Nizam. Let me in."

"We better talk outside. Sories. I was home alone. You must understand what I mean."

He's nodding.