ISHIHARA (Blind Color-Real Story)
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When one door is closed, the other door opens

There are many roads to Rome, many roads to success

To help a lot of people doesn't have to be doctors, right?

But this has already been done. Our fate is like a leaf drifting towards a waterfall. There's no word

backwards, there's just a race against time looking for a way to conquer the color blind test. And this has all been done, too. I also did not know before that there are some colors that are difficult to distinguish by me. In that

in life, even in a lifetime there has never been a problem related to color, until now came. Dad doesn't know either. If time could be turned back, of course, Dad is not this hardened. We are also self-conscious with our ideals, but because there is no way back. The oil company scholarship has to be saved if I back out the scholarship is gone. There is none

new student admissions from state universities. SNMPTN is over.

Even if there will only come SNMPTN in the next year.

I sat on the stairs, looking down, drowning my face in both knees. My hands clenched my feet.”Dad how about we back off..” I try to get that sentence out as carefully as possible. My voice's hoarse. Then I looked at me deeply and sharply.

“Back home Yah. Next year we try another test in another major,” added me.

“My son ..” Answer Father.

Red eyes. The phone in his hand is still in his hand.

“You and I came chasing dreams all the way in the name of the Mountain of Crying. Then we go home then the mountain's tears are not only getting faster but the mountain can collapse. The whole village Nak ! we will whiten eyes bear shame ..”

“Today you have what you want. Tomorrow or next year is not necessarily what you are

want you to get. Don't take decisions in emotions.” That's my advice. Father said the sentence so calmly soothing.

A gentle wind blew between us, soothing even though the sunlight was already

it was hot because the sun was up. The shadow of the minaret of the great mosque that set us down shortened even more. Time keeps moving.

Don't come home embarrassed. Step away. I came up with the name of the mountain

Crying out. If I go home, the mountain's tears will not only get louder but the mountain will also collapse.

Dad brought the phone to his ear,” Walaikumsalam. Looky Brother. He wants to give up. Home bring shame.” My father complained to my brother in Malaysia. Long time it

story telling. Dad walked around the tower because that was the way he called, maintaining a signal that sometimes ran. Then Dad came he wrote a note on a small paper.

“Name as Rahma. He's a final-level medical student. He lives here in an area called

Prada.” Dad handed me the address on the paper.

“Prada..,” says. I held the address of the housing. Where is Prada?  How far can Rahma help us?

We don't know him yet either. Banda Aceh we do not know where the corner is. After praying and praying my father and I went home. In the labi-labi towards Darussalam we were silent. My eyes looked out at the street, reading

writings along the way. Search for posts read by PRADA.

My eyes look at the gate,” Father..” I call Dad.

“Simple Prada.” So I read on the gate that the labi-labi had passed by several meters

elapsed.

pressing the labi-labi button. We also came down.

The day is so hot because the sun has enough to make the sea evaporate some of its surface. The steam conducts heat to the coastal part. Moreover, there are no trees that are shade in the Prada area. Unplugged by the Tsunami sweep. The earth feels so hot. In the midst of the scorching heat, Dad and I walked into the Prada Gang. Walk and keep going looking for the name of the address we are heading to. Walk straight inside.

Prada is filled by a newly built minimalist house. It is not far from Darussalam

so that it becomes a suitable area for students who want to contract a house, how some students meet meyewa house for a year.

Weary of walking, Dad and I finally found the address given by my brother from Malaysia. Kak Rahma's address is a typical student rental house consisting of

several blocks. Rahma's sister lives in the last house map.

“Saleummualaikum”

“Walaikumsalam. Can anyone help sir?”

“Is here live Nak Rahma. Medical Student”

“Oh Brother Rahma. Wait Sir. I call. Please sit first” the woman allowed us to sit on the porch of the house. The floor is cold and clean. It is good to let go of our fatigue.

Dad told Rahma about what we were going through. The answer from Rahma is that there is no such book. There is no campus either. The books in the library have been damaged by the Tsunami. There is very little left. There can't be any Ishihara books either. As far as Kak Rahma knows the books in the library only contain books

medical lessons.

“Thank you Nak Rahma.” I thank you for your explanation Rahma. Our fatigue has been

answered by an answer.

“Wait a minute Pak”

“What's Nak ?”

“Usually Ishihara's Book is in the Hospital. For the color blindness test later is the collaboration of the University with the Hospital. But about the admission of new students outside

my knowledge and I also have no relationship in the Hospital who can borrow the book Sir. Forgive me,” Brother Rahma explained last before we left.

“It's okay. Thanks Son.  We are very grateful for the information that Nak Rahma sampiakan.” Father say.

“Thanks Brother,”

kataku too.

“Thank you back Brother. Good luck,” reply.

Dad and I went home. Tracing the roads we have passed to the intersection of the road

the main part of Prada. The heat and heat are no longer ignored. Maybe in my mind and Dad is one ishihara book is in the hospital. No bookshops sell them.

***