
Until now Subarkah was quite satisfied with the achievement of planting and harvesting results obtained from half the newly cultivated land. Due to the increasing market demand, especially from the local super market that sells various vegetables. He is not tired of making new breakthroughs in accordance with the scientific field obtained during his lecture in Bangkok. About how to divide the land and time to plant so that it can harvest every day. Provide a technical touch to help the nutritional needs of every plant as nature ticks the season from rain to drought. Fertilizer and pruning according to the dose, the results are sorted according to the right designation for self-service or to traditional markets. Recorded, recorded, making the daily life of Subarkah so quite busy. On the other hand, workers who are average local villagers, can learn how to grow new, new types of fertilizers and drugs, giving many benefits to the surrounding community.
"Our young boss, hard worker, his school is noble, his manners "Some of his workers give judgment.
"Honey yes, he did not marry this person, but if so with Patimah, since long ago we can work for him "
The others said the others. While the person he was talking about, curious because he heard the noise of mothers in the sorting place, on the floor below where he was.
He looked down from the open window, looking at his female worker who was greeting another woman who was wearing black and also black hooded.
Subarkah continued to look even though only his back was visible, because the woman was in a position to back him. And when the woman turned her face, Subarkah was wide-eyed, her legs were stiff, unable to move,until his hand spontaneously grabbed the curtain that he sliding to prevent it to be seen from the outside.
"Patimahs..."
Then from behind the curtain he peeked, looking at the woman who was then straight facing him
"Yes, Broken...O Allah, "Subarkah hides his face behind the curtain, his heart beats faster. Recalling that face that was now turning denser was formed and its aura completely came out, like saying
"Subarkah, I am a devout Muslim ! I who can wash my face many times a day with ablution water !"
He again saw the woman's figure thoroughly, as if afraid that the body was lost from his sight. Destiny has written, only Patimah, Broatimah only women who can thrill his soul.
"If I could get closer to seeing you, Broken. Let me die, as long as I can look at you longer, so I can touch you even if I just touch your nose.."
Subarkah it feels crazy. What if the girl leaves ? He knew he would lose so much, he knew the thorn would come again, piercing a piece of his heart that was left behind.
"Patimah, why are you showing your face again ?" Subarkah sat on the floor, grabbed his hair, regretting why he was insensitive when Patimah's father was treated for a long time in the hospital, should he know the family Patimah could not possibly finance him. It should be that he was faster to offer some money, thus Patimah was not entangled with a debt of gratitude to the old man !
Moments later Subarkah stood up again, peering out of the window. Broken was no longer there. His eyes rolled around, and he didn't see them either. Subarkah immediately went down, heading towards the road. He saw the woman he loved half-dead already on the motorcycle ojek, drove and lost in the corner of the road.
Subarkah unconscious, his behavior can not be separated from the attention of a mother, who until now regretted himself to be a person who lacked to be unable to unite his child, who has not been able to unite his children, Broken with the young man he kept looking at from a distance. He understood for a long time, their hearts were bound to each other, loving each other even though his love was broken in the middle of the road.
"Den Subarkah, Patimah. Forgive mom..."
He walked into the bathroom, there he cried so hard, so long.
*********************************************
Mr. Marjuki did not let go of the view even for a second on the figure of Patimah who was busy sweeping the yard continued to water the plants using a long hose. Beautiful with green colored brackets leaves and the veil is wrapped around the neck and the ends are rolled behind the head, resembling a loop, looks more graceful. Especially if people know, behind the clothes they wear, people might die standing, how not ? He knew very well every curve of his wife's body when dressing after bathing.for a long time in front of the mirror with underwear alone, he was really a ripe fruit, never enough to pluck and taste it.l
"Hi ! "
"His eyes, I'm going !"
Awakened, tofu-know Patimah was standing before him, holding both cheeks Mr. Marjuki, ending with squeezing his nose, then walking again in the yard, cleaning all the equipment, keeping it where it came from.
"I take a shower, sir ? Or do I want to add the tea water first? "
"That's enough. Shower !" Mr. Marjuki was really pleased to see his wife's behavior this morning. If there was no one at home it might be difficult to spend the day rolling, no one would be able to make him smile, even though then he asked himself.
"When do you want ?"
Then he went to the mirror, saw an old face standing there, covered with flesh-pink wrapped under his eyes. The establishment began to bend at the nape of the neck and if the mirror could see the way he stood, he had started to drift and his eyes ended up in the zipper of his pants were a little loose.
He took a deep breath of consciousness the contents behind it had long since malfunctioned. It should be a bathin risk for his wife who can never be given even his wife. One day his wife once said
"relative to the wife is shodaqoh "
But after he realized his sentence was inappropriate in front of Mr. Marjuki, a husband who was unable to do that, his wife added.
"Kulu Ma'ruf shidaqotun. Every good is shodaqoh."
But his face turned pale. Mr. Marjuki knew he might be afraid of being angry, so Mr. Marjuki turned to another conversation. There is nothing wrong with his words, what is wrong is him, before marrying Patimah and still married young women from other villages, Mr. Marjuki has begun to feel the signs of decline, he said, until his previous marriage ended, because his wife ran away with another man who was much younger than him.
While his wife, who is now, has not seen any signs in her harboring treachery, for always shrouding the honor of her religion, on her strong worship, always measuring her virtues with shari'ah.
"Oh Allah, give me a guide in the face of this problem "
At once Mr. Marjuki remembered his Robb, a substance that he had not cried for so long. He was so afraid that one time his wife changed and left him, but on the other hand he was compassionate to his wife, he was a fruit that was ripe, should be picked and enjoyed his age, brought to the peak of his young passion. It was enough that he accompanied him, an old man who could not give him a bath. Though Mr. Marjuki realized, his wife is not an angel, but an ordinary man, wanting the fulfillment of his natural desires, warmed in the cold of his nights which had been accompanied only by old men who had turned off his maleness.
So before his wife finished taking a bath, he told his maid Bi Isah, that he would go to the house of his eldest son, Tini.
He made a decision that only he knew.
"Yes sir, I'll tell my mother."
Mr. Marjuki limped out of the yard, taking public transportation, because there would not be enough time if he had to call the driver he used to rent to bring his luxury car, which was long parked in the garage. He did not want his wife to come along, which would certainly be a barrier to his determination, the determination to make his wife, Broken who for him was more than worthy to be happy.
"Patimah, forgive me "
* CONNECT*