ONE LOVE, TWO CONTINENTS
Undecided
It is good to be healthy when we feel pain. Syahrel's legs are now no longer suspended walking, one by one the bruises dry up and disappear.
The arm and shoulder blades no longer feel pain in their joints when rotated clockwise. One full month Syahrel is not able to do heavy activities, only pray and occasionally help Mother wash dishes.
Books and pens cannot be out of hand no matter what they may be, they are faithful friends. They never protested. They are the places where Shahrel complained about the unfurling work, the expletive oath, the protest of life, the unexpressed verse, the fate of love, the voice of the heavens and the hundreds of pages of life.
This is Syahrel's fifth book. Books that start to end neatly arranged in a wardrobe.
Saturated, a whole month he's just inside the house. Just talk to the walls of the room that are faded in color and the woman that Syahrel saved. The intention of the heart is only briefly to breathe the air of the surrounding environment, looking at the state of his stall.
“Syahrel!” Shouted Dita from inside the car.
“Hai!” Syahrel replied with just that.
The silver sedan car was parked right in front of the newsstand.
“Praise God that you have recovered.”
Dita helped tidy up magazines and newspapers full of dust.
“No need to Dit, I can alone, later your hands dirty you know.”
“It's okay, I'm glad you're back in action.”
“I only see the state of the kiosk alone Dit, fear of being stolen people.”
“Will anyone steal newspapers and magazines?”
“There. Students who again make assignments often look for references to writing here," Syahrel said.
“You could have.”
“Where are you from?”
“Campus. Just one course today.”
“Oh. Keep going home?”
“Niatya.”
“Kok?” Syahrel was a little curious to hear Dita's words.
“Yes, initial intention to go home. Uh met you, so stop by. Rail, cementin I'm looking for a job want?”
“Where?”
“City park, I brought a laptop. We're Wi Fi-an!”
“Not at home complete facilities?”
“That's not the problem. Do you want to come to my house?”
Syahrel was silent thinking about the situation and conditions surrounding Pak Anggoro's house.
“How?”
Syahrel did not say a word.
“That's right..you're silent.....How?”, Dita offers for the second time.
“Pleaseeee...”, it begs with its effect.
“Lama?”
“Before kok.”
Shahrel compiled a magazine and cleaned it from dust.
“Rel, how?”
He remained indifferent and concentrated on rearranging his stall.
“I can't.”
“Hhh...say from earlier, I so don't wait!”
We got back in the car.
“Wait, I'm not done talking. I can't deny the point. But I finish my job first.”
“OK. I help deh.”
One hour Dita grappled with the dust of the streets, her face became rather dull and blackened. Cold bottles of tea were consumed. This is the first time Dita is sweating and dusty. If Mr. Anggoro knew, he did not know what would happen and no words could be used as a defense.
“Alhamdulillah's.....Finished also.”
“Rel, don't be too tired, it will hurt again right that bothers us all.”
“Includes Sisil and Zahra?” Syahrel.
“Oh, Zahra and Sisil...I'm home on Rail!” Dita sulking.
“Kok you angry?”
“Who is angry?” Dita hid her feelings.
“Good if you are not angry. I clean-up first.”
“I have wet wipes and antiseptics," Dita stuck out the two items. The basis of the village, the antiseptic is combined with wet wipes.
“Not that way, Syahrel.”
“Sorry..”
“Clean your hands first”, Dita holds both hands Syahrel, then wipe them with tissue. Syahrel was stunned and felt another shiver.
“Find your face!” Same with both hands. Syahrel could do nothing, like a buffalo that had its nose plucked.
“The last one, wipe with antiseptic.”
“Pantes you are healthy Dit, just clean your hands until so much.”
“Iya dong, is cleanliness part of faith. Didn't you?”
One valuable lesson, Dita who is not a Muslim understands the meaning of cleanliness, while Syahrel who understands the science of fiqh can not apply in life. In the science of fiqh is explained how to maintain cleanliness in the Thoharoh chapter.
“Where do you know that?”
“Write on wall time I SD. There again, demand knowledge to reach China. I'm right again, right? That's why I went to college" Dita added.
Again Syahrel was hit hard with Dita's statement. As if Dita's statement said, “Why didn't you go to college, Rel?”
“Come, don't waste time. Want you to be downtrodden by the times?” Sindir Dita who saw Syahrel just sat daydreaming.
**ooOoc**
Two more red lights from the intersection of Dita road turning direction, about ten minutes to reach the destination. The cool air with shady trees for a moment can release sweat after tired of tidying up the stall. Two lemon teas were ordered as an appetizer.
“How is the place according to you Rel?”
“Comfortable, clean and certainly expensive.”
“Price problem is not an excuse. Why should self-indulgence be taken into account? Doesn't our body have rights too?”
Whether there is a stealth, the words thrown Dita are all valuable and weighty in the ears of Syahrel.
“Betul," replied Syahrel briefly.
“If we ignore it, our name is dzolim!”
“Not dzolim but wrong," Syahrel corrected a little and informed.
“Sorry, I don't understand the term!”
“Remember, we're here to do the job. So don't waste time. Want you to be downtrodden by the times?” Syahrel returned the sentence an hour ago to Syahrel.
“Huh, it's usually just mad! Make your own sentences dong, ga creative...”.
“Better nyadur than nyontek, hehehe.”
“Rel, we to the topic of direct problems yes. Communication science, as far as you know first introduced in what year?”
“Depends, what communication first?”
“Write?”
“Four thousand years before March," replied Syahrel briefly.
“Yakin?”
“Insya Allah.”
“How much is the division?”
“Aku four.”
“Know where?”
“From book.”
“There is an era of writing, print or print media, telecommunications and the latest interactive communication. That's all I know, the explanation you find yourself.”
“OK Boss!”
Jemari Dita began to dance on a laptop keyboard, ears focused on hearing, the brain trying to digest what was spoken by Syahrel.
After that, it will be refined again the explanation that Syahrel gave, all adding references.
“In addition to taking care of the mosque and selling newspapers, what are your activities?” Ask Dita to find out.
“I love writing.”
“Writing?!” Dita confirms Syahrel's answer.
“Iya, write.”
“Writing what?”
“Anything can be written.”
“As?” Dita asked back.
“As how do you mean?” Syahrel answered.
“Kok confused?”
“Cerpen”, replied Syahrel briefly.
“Oh... Have you ever loaded?”
“But.”
“Have tried to be published on the blog?”
“Your intended magazine?" Syahrel tried to guess.
“Aduh Syahrel, it is not the name of the magazine..” Dita tried to hold back the laughter.
“Then?” Dahi Syahrel.
“That's the name of one of the sites on the internet that you can use as a media for publishing all your works," Dita explained briefly.
“How to, Dit?”
I opened the icon on my laptop desktop. In just a few seconds, one feature appears and the website address is written on the bookmark page.
Syahrel was so attentive to every step that Dita did, patiently Dita explained everything to Syahrel, from how to make e-mail to registering an account on the blog site.
“Now try your e-mail access and your blog Rel!”
Jemari Syahrel is still rigid playing the keyboard, his eyes were stammered looking for letters that he was about to push. Syahrel is so hearty moving the touchpad.
“I wrote the website address, then what else should I do?”
Syahrel felt awkward and realized his weakness.
“Press enter button or click touchpad twice.”
“Which one?” For this one thing Syahrel does not understand at all.
“In," Dita's index first pressing.
Again and again Syahrel repeated and asked about what he did not know. Dita also let Syahrel engrossed with his new knowledge.
“What password?”
“FOR1NAME.”
Many times Syahrel misspelled the password.
“Kok can not be Dit?”
“Again can not, all must use capital letters.”
“How?”
“Press caps lock on keyboard.”
Syahrel fulfilled Dita's instructions and finally opened also a blog account owned by Syahrel.
“Thank you Dit. Because of you I understand one new thing.”
“Sama-sama. As long as you become a famous writer do not forget me, okay?” Dita kept that hope.
“ Amen.... Insha Allah.”
Dita only pay attention and answer questions that Syahrel does not know. Syahrel looked embarrassed to ask, especially Dita so close sitting on the side of Syahrel.
Dita's blank eyes often looked at Syahrel, a little embarrassed he threw a smile to Syahrel if the man found him daydreaming. Syahrel replied with a warm look of gratitude, although in fact he was embarrassed to look at Dita.
“Rel..”
“Iya Dit, what is it?”
“Mmm...there is nothing to call," there is a word to say.
Syahrel remains engrossed in the new thing he knows, his concentration is so serious about paying attention to laptop monitors. So quickly Syahrel digested the virtual world he just knew. The desire to learn more in making him forget time.
“Rel, you haven't prayed in the afternoon right?” Dita reminded.
“God, I forgot. You wait here, I look for the mushola first," saw Syahrel stop the activity and run around a little.
“Mas, the closest mosque where ya?”, asked Syahrel to the restaurant waiter. The waiter pointed out the direction using the right thumb as a sign of politeness.
Complete already rukun wudhu he did. He faced the face with both palms perched while praying in the purity of the water that was still wet attached.
Rokaat prayer was also fulfilled, so solemn Syahrel faced his soul and body only he intended to reach the pleasure of God. Two greetings at the end of the rokaat marking cash are already fardhu prayers. The remembrance and prayer after the prayer did not forget he recited.
“Subhaana robbika robbil ’izzati ’ammaa yashifuun wasalaamun ’alal mursaliin walhamdulillaahi robbil
’aalamiin”, prayer closing was especially pronounced.
Immediately he approached Dita, Syahrel's heart was a little airy because he had completed his obligations. A smile was still visible on Dita's lips which was almost thirty minutes waiting.
“Solat has
sorenya?”
“Alhamdulillah. Non-sholat
afternoon, it's called Ashar.” prayer
“Sorry, I don't understand that term.”
“What's wrong," Syahrel also understood him.
The two continued other talks and were still around Dita's final task that had to be completed as the script material later. Sometimes they seem to laugh at each other, not knowing what they are talking about. So engrossed Syarel and Dita carried away until there was no more boundary between the two. Sometimes they are still looking for another discussion. Starting from general, political and social issues to family problems. Syahrel also opened up a little personality, and vice versa.
Suddenly their conversation stopped. The white-hooded girl turned her eyes away. Syahrel's eyes kept watch over the girl's every move and movement. Slowly he approached her.
“Kak Syahrel?! Is your brother healed?" Asked the long hooded girl almost covering her shoulders, apparently the girl was Zahra.
“Alhamdulillah has recovered. Where are you from Ra?”
“Let college stop here for a while, happened to be close to campus.”
Dita was silent, Zahra's presence was not suspected.
“Where else to go?”
“This is coming home.”
“You come home with us?” Syahrel made an offer.
Just the smile that Dita gave, somehow her heart said.
"No thanks, afraid of trouble.”
“Oh is not. We also want to go home," interrupted Dita while tidying up the laptop and some books scattered on the table.
“Sorry so troublesome.”
“You're not acquainted yet, are you?” Syahrel tried to warm the atmosphere.
Zahra and Dita looked at each other and stretched out their hands,
“Dita," as usual Dita just smiled.
“Zahra," the nanar of his eyeballs harbors friendship and innocence.
They left the restaurant, shady trees and free-flying pigeons were seen returning to their cages.
Syahrel bowed down walking in the crush of two beautiful girls, with different nature, religion, facial curves and educational background.
Budi the two girls who served the ship was very polite, simple in itself and did not show who they were and the background of the parent profession who was willing to finance their education to the next generation.
What two beautiful girls who are perfect academically and morally.
Two girls who obey their parents. Lucky if there are men who can live side by side with them, whose seedlings, bebet and weights are able to give birth to a nation's children who are God willing and polite as well as his mother.