My student's my future husband?
Episode 124
Ferdian hung up his phone after his wife told him a lot about what had happened. She realized that she needed herself there. If time can be accelerated, he wants to jump into the future so that he can soon meet his lover.
The dawn prayer was already reverberating, and he soon fulfilled it. The deepest prayer for his family entrusted to the Almighty.
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A week has passed since Ridho decided to continue ta’arufnya with Namira. He was lucky, Namira also received it after studying Ridho's CV. The Muslim woman was quite interested in Ridho's calm and determined personality.
Today the two decided to meet directly in the framework of Nazhar, namely in order to meet the demands of marriage. Of course with a meeting in accordance with the Shari'a, namely with the presence of intermediaries. Because Namira was not with his mahram in America, he made Ustadzah Aisyah and Ustadz Ahmed intercede when he met with Ridho. The meeting was held at the residence of Ustadz Ahmed, in a modest housing complex in the Wicker Park area.
The distance from Winston Tower to Wicker Park is approximately 3 miles with a distance of about 10 minutes. Ferdian will accompany his best friend to meet Namira. The two took a taxi from Washington Boulevard to Evergreen Avenue, the home of Ustadz Ahmed's residence for the past five years.
The sedan-modeled taxi was walking down a quiet looking street. The dry leaves are scattered on the asphalt crushed under the tires of the vehicles they use. The taxi stopped and lowered the two in a semi-Victorian American Classic style house with shades of red bricks dominating on each side of its walls. A black iron fence greeted the two. The small garden in front looked neat with green grass despite the sight of a few strands of dried maple leaves scattered there. Ferdian pressed the doorbell.
Not long after, the door opened. Ustadz Ahmed wearing his cocktail shirt welcomed the arrival of the two of them.
“Assalamu’alaikum, Tadz!” greet the two men.
“Wa’alaikumsalam. Please come in,” is friendly.
Ustadz had the two young men sit on his living room couch. Ustadz Ahmed's house is not a big mansion, but just a simple house. Although from outside the house it looks dark and gloomy, but the atmosphere inside the house is so warm. The creamy little floral patterned wallpaper warms the atmosphere. The roof of the house was not very high. There was a small hallway leading to the other room. Narrow indeed, but that's how simple life might be in America.
“I'll call Namira. He has been here since and is helping my wife prepare lunch,” bright ustadz who just sat down then stood up again.
“Good, Tadz,” replied Ridho nodded.
Ferdian nudged Ridho who was sitting next to him. The man who had quite a filled cheek raised his chin.
“Deg-degan no?” ask Ferdian.
“Iya atuh!” the answer.
Ferdian smiled as he showed his teeth. He also remembered the atmosphere when his match was first.
A few minutes later Ustadz Ahmed returned again, with his wife Ustadzah Aisyah. This was the first time Ridho and Ferdian had met him. The woman has a typical white skin of West Asia with her nose pointed. Ustadz Ahmed's wife looks beautiful even though her body is quite contained behind the hijab and the robe she wears. Its age ranges from 40-45 years. He cupped his hands while smiling faintly in front of the two young men.
“This is my wife, Aisyah, originally from Algeria,” Ustadz Ahmed said.
Both men were just amazed, it turns out his wife ustadznya North African blooded Arabian peninsula.
Then shortly from there, a beautiful Muslim woman came with a tray containing several cups of hot tea. It was Namira, who wore a light-colored abaya kaftan with a hijab wrapped around her neck. His gaze was lowered as he placed the cups on the table. His injured hand had recovered.
Namira cupped her hands together greeting the two foreign men in front of her. He smiled faintly, occasionally glancing at the faces of the two men.
“This is Namira Safeea, a student from Palembang who studied at UIC,” said ustadz.
Ridho looked at the woman's face with his sharp eyes. Her skin was white, her face was smooth sparkling, her eyes were narrow, her lips were red. She's very pretty. Especially with a brightly colored Muslim dress like the one Namira is wearing today. His heart could not lie, especially with the rhythm of his heart racing.
Ustadz invited everyone to sit down. Namira sat next to Ustadzah Aisyah, directly opposite Ridho who sat in front of her. His face bowed while clasping his hands.
“Parent Namira, mandated his trust to me for today's event. If Ridho is serious to continue ta’aruf this to the next stage of the khitbah, then Ridho can convey it directly to me,” explained ustadz.
“But previously, for 7 days you two started taaruf is there anything to ask first regarding the introduction so far? You all this time my wife and I have been your communication bridge, who knows who has been uneg-uneg all this time.”
A moment of silence, as both were silent. Maybe their minds and hearts are just raging at the moment.
Ferdian cleared his throat breaking the silence.
“Or Nak Ferdian would like to give some encouragement? As an experienced friend?” tawar ustadz made Ferdian's eyebrows raised.
“Hehe, nothing, Tadz! I also continue to learn to be a good husband,” he blushed, because he felt unworthy to give advice especially in front of his ustadz.
This time it was Namira's turn to cleared her throat.
“Sorry I want to ask you, Sister Ridho,” said the young pink hijab woman.
“Please, get ready, Dho!” ustadz Ahmed. Ridho became tense.
“What Brother has been dating before?” ask her with her melodious and mature voice.
“Honestly, all this time I have never dated any woman, Dek!” ridho replied firmly, even though his heart was awkward there.
“Alhamdulillah,” said ustadz and Namira, even though the woman spoke in her heart.
“If Namira own Deck how?” Ridhi asked back.
“Alhamdulillah, I also never once dated,” replied he lowered his head.
“Masya Allah, tabarakallah.”
Both hearts are equally relieved.
“I want to ask again, Tadz!” sahut Ridho's.
“Please, please!”
“What is Namira Deck willing to follow me anywhere if you are married later? For example, if I am placed in work anywhere, is willing to accompany me?” ask Ridho without making small talk.
Namira was silent for a moment, even though he had prepared the answer long ago.
“Insya Allah I am willing to accompany my husband whenever and wherever I am. I understand the duty of the wife is to be a dress for her husband, so God willing I will come along.”
“Oh yes Tadz, I want to know, is the ta’aruf process and sermon later determined by the time?” ask Ridho.
“For ta’aruf itself there is actually no limit, while for the sermon some scholars suggest the faster the better. Because good intentions should be accelerated, it is feared that slander or maksiat occur. Moreover, this in order to worship Allah.”
“Oh good Tadz.”
“Kak Ridho himself here for how long ya?” ask Namira.
“About 4 months, my training will be finished. Then what about Namira Dek lecture?”
“I am compiling a thesis, hopefully two more months ahead of the trial,” he replied.
“After that, directly back to Palembang?” ask Ridho again.
“My family now lives in Jakarta, no longer in Palembang. Except for the grandparents' family from the father line.”
“Ooh so.”
“Is there a symbolic souvenir, Tadz?” ask Ridho again.
“To my knowledge, there is no symbolic condition in the sermon such as the ring, it is just part of the tradition. The most preferred is the existence of an open statement from the men to propose the woman. If you want to keep the souvenirs given, then its nature is like a gift only. Not like a dowry,” bright Ustadz Ahmed.
“Is there anything Namira Dek wants for the sermon?” asked Ridho firmly, who indirectly had the intention to interfere with him.
Namira looked at the face of his corpse, then slightly toward his ustadz. Ustadz Ahmed saluted with decisiveness and determination from Ridho.
“Will I think about it first, Brother!” the answer.
“Alright!”
The event continued into the dining room, as the sun had already crawled up into the sky. The conversation continued until the two no longer had any uneg-unig in their hearts.
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Patricia is seen standing in front of a multi-storey building that has a chocolate trellis. The woman looked doubtfully at the building. There is a collection of brochures contained in an iron box attached to the wall. He took it and opened it.
How to Know Islam? That's the title of the article in that brochure. A brochure to broadcast the preaching and religion of Islam. Patricia stands right in the Islamic Center building. His heart was called to visit this place on holiday. He knew that Ferdian and Ridho visited him often, but he wished that he would not meet the two here. Then he folded and put the brochure in his sling bag.
The blond woman was eager to step her feet inside, only that her steps were heavy. He closed his eyes, maybe not yet the time, he thought to himself. He drove away from the building and called a taxi back to Winston Tower.
The taxi stopped him right in the Winston Tower courtyard. He took his foot out of there. His heart gasped when in front of his cab, down also Ridho and Ferdian.
“Hey, Pat!” exclaim Ferdian who just saw it.
The woman smiled stiffly at him, let alone seeing him Ridho seemed not to look at her. His heart was slightly scratched.
“You want to go above?” ask Ferdian.
“Ah yes, but I seem to have forgotten something,” she said lying.
“What's up?”
“I have to go to minimarket first, there is something I have to buy!”
“Oh so, alright!” Ferdian.
Patricia turned her steps towards minimarket. But there was nothing he had to buy. He just wanted to avoid Ridho so as not to be in an elevator with him. With the face of such a cold man, this made him tormented.
Meanwhile, Ridho and Ferdian were already inside the elevator. Ferdian looked at his silent friend.
“What are your feelings now, Dho?” ask Ferdian curiously.
Ridho. Ferdian should not have asked, he was lazy to answer.
“Enormally elucidated Fer!”
“Why difficult? It should be clear, your feelings should be there for Namira. Aye right?”
“Iya, but not that easy, it turns out,” said Ridho lowered his head.
Ferdian surprised. He withdraws the assumption that Ridho still harbors his feelings for Patricia.
“Clean your heart, Dho! Istikhoroh often, especially earlier you are rich will mengelamar Namira. You're not plain rich anymore, Dho!”
“What I changed?”
“Yes you changed, and it got weird. Sorry about Men!”
“Astaghfirullah! You're really Fer, I have to clean my heart. Help me, Fer!"
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Hail, Ridho....
By dong
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