FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 97 "Three Times"

*Yazeed Akiki Mubarak

After training martial arts, I went alone to ndalem Kiai Bahar, Pesantren Al-Furqan. I improved my appearance before I got into the car. I don't know I'm nervous enough tonight. Good intentions should be expressed immediately. I expect nothing but the pleasure of Allah. If it has been part of the record of Lauhul Mahfuz, then everything will be entrusted to me. That's what I told myself before I started the car.

The rickety sedan car is on. Then race with a fairly strong wind speed. Tonight is full. The light brought me to the gates of Pesantren Al-Furqan. Only fifteen minutes, maximum speed.

I've arranged an appointment with Kiai Bahar. Actually last night. And, he invited me to come there ba'da magrib directly. Because, ba'da isya he had an event, attended the invitation to study the rutinan. My step turned towards the son's musala lined up directly with the ndalem. Kiai Bahar was still there alone. There was only one pair of sandals. And, it looks like the activity after the magrib was shut down.

"Assalamu'alaikum?"

"Wa'alaikumussalam warahmatullah wabarakatuh."

I sat down cross-legged in front of him.

"Kok dongaren klambine sampeyan ndak koyo biasane?"

Translate: (Your shirt tumben is not as usual?)

"New atmosphere, Yi." I smiled broadly.

"Sampeyan rene's got an opo invitation?"

Translation: (What invitation are you here for?)

I took out an invitation in a small bag tucked in my chest.

"This, Yi. I invite you guys, as well as Gus Fakhar." I offered the white invitation.

Kiai Bahar read it.

"Kok yo gelis, until you get up a year."

Translation: (Smoke is fast, it's been a year)

"Snack."

"Sampeyan sing patiently. Menowo gantine luweh slick eih."

Translated: (You are patient. Maybe it's better instead)

"Aamiin's."

"Ngono kui sampeyan lak nggeh tasek sae silaturahmine teng Madiun? Niku karo sing first."

Translation: (Your Pilaturahmimu is still often, right, in Madiun? That's with the first one)

"Alhamdulillah. But, it's been three months not visiting."

"Namine cumin?" (What's his name?)

"Zujajah."

"Sampun simah maleh to?"

Translation: (Have you married again?)

"Saying this year Zujajah plans to marry the Magelang, Yi. Duko (does not know) with whom. The invitation claimed the year of Ning Nawang's death. The third wife."

"Garwane singing keloro?"

"They did not allow our family to participate in his death, Yi. It's because our relationship hasn't been good since Mikara died."

Kiai Bahar.

Three times married. My first marriage was to a daughter of Kiai of Madiun. We are not set up. In the long introductory age of almost half a year, that feeling of quietly growing brings a commitment for us to continue on to a more serious level. Unfortunately, no one would have thought that the marriage of ten months had to end in a decision that God did not like. It turned out that the six-month introduction did not make my ex-wife, Ning Zujajah, able to understand my cold character and firm stance. I admit I was not like now. The divorce left my eyes open. I learned from my mistakes, my inability to maintain the integrity of the household.

It continues at the second marriage to an ordinary woman named Mikara. My initial introduction came after seven months of solitude as a widower. Nor does it depart from an arranged marriage. She is a woman who is not much different from Aynur. But she was actually a woman like Fizah. He just wasn't lucky. The journey before marriage is not easy either. What makes the Mikara family less agree is their own views on kiai descent. They were worried that Mikara who had a bad background would be treated unfairly. Presumably, they used to be sentimental towards people like me. Meanwhile, my family's side is ummik. Ummik has a fairly extreme view that since the beginning ummik claims Mikara may not be intact anymore. Although, in our lodge there are many real examples of women like Mikara who eventually become better, but to choose her to be a son-in-law, for ummik is not easy. However, we ended up getting married after Mikara managed to melt the ummik heart. No problems after that. Even a year after I parted with Ning Zujajah, I officially got married. At our first graduation, I knew Mikara was indeed a woman who was persistent in maintaining her jewelry. However, my second marriage only lasted for an even year. Mikara died of a disease in her womb. And, to Mikara's family, marrying me was considered only a catastrophe. It caused their relationship with me to be less good until now.

In the third marriage, I married Ning Nawang who was then a childless widow. We were betrothed six months after Mikara's death. One month later, I married her. There is no problem because of our equal status. For me, she is the perfect wife. A wife who can teach me how to soften my heart. Patient and very supportive of what I do in devoting myself to the lodging that has been entrusted. So good of him, God picked him up first when we could not get a son. In the marriage relationship that took place in the last five years until 2020 yesterday, I have not been blessed with a child.

There is a myth that struck me where if the baby's vital organs were ever exposed to breast milk, then he said he could be barren. That's why I didn't have children until now despite being married three times. After I tried to see a doctor, the myth was not true. I am healthy physically and spiritually. But, there is still another myth that says that whoever marries me he will surely die. It was proven that by twice I got married again, they all died. The second myth I can't confirm is true or not. Everything depends on the power of God.

Right now, I just want to find a companion who will accept me with all the flaws regardless of those myths. I was a year old for the third time. Tonight, I delivered an invitation to the salutation, commemorating Ning Nawang's first haul almarhumah.

"And, tonight I also have another intention, Yi."

"Nope?" (What?)

"I want to get to know Fizah further. That's if Kiai sneers."

Gus Fakhar got off his bike. He's carrying a crackle bag. Approaching me and kiai at musala.

"Nights like this come here. Who's the same, Mas?"

"Where are you from?"

"From convection. Same who? Alone?"

"Yes. I'm here for my wife's first haul invitation. I'm coming, yeah."

"Effortable."

He sat next to me.

"Mas, help me. I'll chat."

"Ready."

"What was this talking about?"

"You proposed to Iza, Khar."

"Applying Iza?" Directly look at me. "Since when have you liked Iza?"

"In my dictionary, there's no such thing as falling in love at first sight. Through the process I dare to make a decision tonight."

"Iza ki ceritane yo jektas Abah tawani. But, rejected."

Translation: (Iza's story is also new Abah tawari. But, rejected)

"If I see, the Iza has no wishful thinking in that direction, Mas. He was seventeen. His ideals are still many. Memorization and college."

"That's it, huh?"

"The man whose name is Nizam, who sat near you as a cook judge that afternoon, he was the one Iza rejected."