JUMPING HIGHER
ADVICE FROM MR. SYARIF

Early in the morning, I was awakened by an old man who turned out to be the caretaker of the mosque. Although the eyes are still sleepy because it is not usual to wake up early, but I was forced to wake up with one squirm. Try if at home, mom and Bik Narti alternately wake up and I just squirm in bed. Only after writhing dozens of times did I get up and walk to the bathroom. Now at the head of this mosque with just a single pat on the shoulder, I had already woken up and immediately sat with my eyes open though a little.

"You're a traveler?" ask Old Man Nazir Mosque.

"Yes, sir," I replied, rubbing my eyes.

"Go take a shower first, soon it's time for dawn prayers. You're a muslim, right?" he examined my face.

I'm nodding. The old man opened the doors of the mosque and turned on the lights. I got up and walked towards the bathroom near the ablutions. A moment later I heard Old Man's voice reading the Quran. Ah, all this time I've always missed moments like this. I can count how many times a month I wake up early in the morning and hear the sound of people teaching from the mosque near the house. When I wake up I fall back asleep.

After the shower, I put my backpack in the mosque's head by the door. At that time another Old Man was preaching the prayer, calling people to leave his bed and hastening to perform the morning prayers in the mosque. Until the dawn of the morning is proclaimed, the person in the mosque can be counted on the fingers. All are middle-aged and almost decrepit men, only I am young myself. Where are the others, who are young? At least they are still snoring in their homes.

The morning prayer is completed when the color of the sky becomes brightly ground. I rushed out, but Old Man Nazir Masjid called and took me to breakfast at his house. Yes, the dawn prayer is indeed the opening of the windfall door. Just after the prayer there is an offer for breakfast, how about noon? Everything will be easy.

"Where are you from, son?" asked the Old Man, Nazir Masjid as he stepped beside me.

"Medan, sir," I answered honestly.

"From this town too?" he looked in wonder while looking at me.

"Yes" I replied slowly.

Gawat, here. Breakfast can be canceled. When I woke up, the old man asked me if I was a traveler. I answered yes. Travelers from Hong Kong? tau not the so-called traveler is a person who travels far from his home city like a traveler. Well, what kind of wanderer am I? What is local interlocal? Free roaming, is it not?

"You don't have a family?"

"Have it, sir."

"Where's your family home?"

"You ran away from home?" said the Old Man probing.

"Yes, sir," I answered honestly. Abis if I lie can be quality, right? The hell time, Nazir Masjid lied? Very little work!

While eating vegetables, I told him why I ran away from home. The old man I finally knew was named Sharif, advising me at length. He said I was stupid, just because of a breakup just so lazy school, wandering and finally leaving home.

"It is better to be heartbroken, than to have a broken leg" Mr Syarif joked.

"Why can that be, sir?" I almost choked on hearing that.

Mr. Sharif smiled and explained the reason for his words earlier. If we break up with a boyfriend, we can find a replacement. Well, if a broken leg can be replaced with a horse foot? Yeah, can't do it. At most the old leg is revived, it was grateful to be able to blend and heal. Most people though healed, but the road so unstable like a car never balancing. I smiled at Old Man's kind and humorous explanation.

"So that heartbreak is okay. Pain and disappointment at most a year, after which your heart will be open to others. Don't sacrifice your life. That's a stupid name," said Mr. Syarif at length.

"Father of experience, too, about heartbreak?" tanyaku plain.

"Father has never been heartbroken, you just see and observe the behavior of children now. A long time ago when there was a term dating like you. People used to be adults and able to have a family yes, be betrothed to a neighbor's child or a close brother himself."

Yes ... No romantic dong, sir? Never met directly married? Yes, if the girl is cute it's another about. Love can come later. If you get anything below standard? Haiya!

I looked at Mr. Sharif. Observing it is the work of the observer. Like football. Ronaldo class player, can be wrong in the eyes of observers. Less is, less is. Try if the observer is told to go into the field. Two-three times chasing the ball fainted stretcher out. Observing yes delicious, try if you feel it yourself. Thoughtful storms.

"How, you still want to run away from home and be a bum, just because of a broken heart with women?" ask Mr. Sharif seriously.

"Yes, I-I .. began to repent anyway, sir." I stammered.