NIGHT BUTTERFLY
#213
Ambulance sounds rang out from a distance. Mr. Guru Izzul Islam whose car is in the back of the Ambulance car with Rianti and Jamila, the, he looked ahead and told Zaebon to stop the car when the ambulance began to slow down and finally stopped right beside the descending road to Sulastri's house. He did not know why the ambulance suddenly stopped before he got home. All the passengers in the car looked at each other, when the sound of the chanting of badr prayers sounded the stomping of the night. Like there's a big religious event. A loud voice also sounded from the side. It was like calling out the name Sulastei. Fahmi, who first got out of the ambulance and checked the situation, approached the car of Mr. Guru Izzul Islam. Mr. Sahril and Mr. Pratama whose car was behind the car of Mr. Guru Izzul Islam were also seen descending.
"What's wrong, Dik," asked Master Izzul Islam in a rather loud voice because of the atmosphere.
"We can't walk yet, Brother Tuan. Subhanallah." Fahmy stopped his words. Her tears were suddenly unstoppable. Rianti. The people who were in the car were waiting for Fahmi's words. Curious about what is going on. Especially when he saw Fahmi sobbing in his tears. Mr. Sahril immediately invited Mr. Pratama to come check on what was happening in front of there.
"People have filled almost all the way to the house. The courtyard of the house and the boarding school was already filled with people waiting for the mother's corpse," Fahmi continued his words with a stammering voice holding back tears. Spontaneous Master Izzul Islam said takbir. Rianti and Jamila who were in the back were crying.
"Subhanallah! Look at the benefits that mother has stocked during her life in the world. If not for that, we will not see how many people who love mother gathered waiting for her return. May the angels also long to welcome the sacred spirit of the mother," said Master Izzul Islam while amazed. Since when did they gather in that place so crowded as this? It's almost dawn. Those people had probably gathered since getting the news of Sulastri's death.
Master Izzul Islam patted Zaebon on the thigh beside him.
"Come, Bon, you go down and have people help you set the path. We do not know the situation will be like this so forget to contact the police to secure the road" said Mr. Guru Izzul Islam. Zaebon nodded, but then Master Izzul Islam prevented him from descending because he saw the ambulance in front of him start moving.
The atmosphere in front was completely crowded with people swarming along the way. Shalawat chants with tears were heard, turning the night before dawn like being in a football stadium. The people in the car could only shake in amazement.
"Good way mom. Look how useful you are to me. Behold, your money and your glory have led me to be a successful man. From a despicable person to a noble," said one of the men in an ash suit, revealing the tie he was wearing as he continued to follow the ambulance. He seemed to have been impatient to hug Sulastri's body.
Looking at the pesantren, making the feathers of people who see it stand. People of all ages waved their hands at the ambulance. Likewise when the ambulance enters the yard. The journey to the house from a large road that was only a few hundred meters felt long and long. All were in charge of witnessing what God had given Sulastri.
In front of the gate, before an ambulance could move further into the house, a woman ran over and kissed the windows of an ambulance while crying. Some people tried to prevent it, but he insisted and continued to attach his body to the body of the ambulance.
"Thank you, mom. Thanks though. My kids can all go to school because of mom. Even now they are big people. We have not been able to repay the services of the mother, but the mother has already left us. Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye. May the grace of God be with the mother."
After going through a tiring journey, finally Sulastri's body can be brought into the house. Mr. Bayan who just managed to get into the guard post, immediately took the werless and brought it to the porch of the house.
"Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarokatuh." Greetings from the terrace of the house. From the guard post, Mr. Guru Izzul Islam is seen standing. The people who filled the courtyard of the house and the courtyard of the pesantren in unison answered the greetings. The voice that had been bustling boisterously, slowly began to calm down and subsided. Only sobs could be heard among the crowd.
"My brothers and sisters.Mother, Father, brother, sisters. Ladies and gentlemen who have been present in our house. What a sight we never thought of as a child, our mother would get this much respect. This is a form of witnessing Fathers, Brothers and Sisters for the kindness of the deceased mother. Of course on this occasion, we also apologize profusely to the father and all present, for what the mother may have done and it offends the brothers. Please forgive me?"
"We're riding with mom. We testify that mother is a shaleh. Ighfir laha, Yes, Allah. Ighfir laha,"
Master Izzul Islam smiled. He raised his hand asking for people to calm down.
"Amen. Father mother, the audience that we glorify, according to family deliberation, God willing, the body of the mother will be buried tomorrow morning at 10. We will perform the funeral prayer in the yard. Friends and brothers who want to ablution', can use ablution' place in pesantren. Incidentally, there's a river there too, maybe we can share a place." Master Izzul Islam glanced at his watch.
"Near dawn, we will pray together here, as well as we will perform Hadiyah sunnah prayer for mothers. Thanks again. Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarokatuh." Mr. Izzul Islam closed the conversation.
"Waalaikum salam."
The sound of the Adhan rang out from all directions. On top of the terrace, Fahmi takes a mic and starts chanting the adhan. The solemn atmosphere was felt when the melodious voice of Fahmi Syahdu made the atmosphere quiet. The occasional chant interspersed with a tone of sadness that brought people back to present Sulastri's face in their respective minds. Everyone present at the place felt lost. A generous figure, a loving figure of orphans and abandoned children, whose homes are almost in every corner of the district. Some scholars and ustadz managed to inter achieve their ideals, so that the literacy rate in that place was increasing. Some of the efforts that he intended to give opportunity to prostitutes and unemployed in that place, were all the initiatives of Sulastri. He does not want, what happened to him first, will befall people who have bad luck.
Jejeran shaf demi shaf neatly lined up filled the yard of the house and the pesantren yard. Echoes of takbir echoed from the mouths of people who began to worship when Master Izzul Islam led the morning congregation prayer.
Nature was silent, participating in the silence in the mourning atmosphere of Sulastri's departure. Isn't our death a mirror of what we do in our lifetime?