ONE LOVE, TWO CONTINENTS
It's Heart, Not Bread

Syahrel had lost two of his loved ones, Haji Arsyad and Dita. Haji Arsyad left and will not return, while Dita left but does not know when he will return. They left a lot of stories, life advice that now can no longer be heard in the ears of Syahrel.

Haji Arsyad left behind a book of advice and the meaning of life through messages and stories that he spoke before he died. While Dita went away leaving a smile and a spoiled joke was also a sentence that until now Syahrel could not interpret it. “If you have been able to prove it, I want you to invite me to tie the symbol of loyalty”, this sentence is still stored in the heart of Syahrel and the words of Mr. Anggoro, who said, ”What can you count on from a man who is just a mosque errand boy and a newsboy!!!”. It motivated Syahrel to be able to tread with confidence life.

The days were so empty, only yesterday he heard Dita's voice in this stall, now the girl left and did not know when to return. Likewise, when Syahrel stepped foot into the mosque, there was no more melodious voice verse Al-qur’an Haji Arsyad chanted, even though there is the same Ustadz Yahya has a melodious voice, which has a melodious voice, but the voice of Haji Arsyad has a different character, the emphasis of the word in Alqur’an and its inspiration in understanding the language of the Qur'an is a plus for him.

“I don't want my youth, run out in this kiosk. I have to look at the outside world and risk life that will happen later. I have to try to make this morning better than it was the morning before. But what can I do?”

Syahrel's desire to leave the stall to cross a more different tomorrow, now experiencing collapse, Syahrel does not know what he must do. For a moment he pondered, looking for a way to make a little change in his life.

“I'll try!”

Syahrel opened several teen magazines and tabloids, he recorded all the editorial addresses. And hurried to leave the stall, to go home and pick up some written books that he had written over the years, some short stories, novels and other literary poems. Syahrel tried to tidy up again and edit some of the writing that he later gave to several magazine editors and publishers.

Syahrel no longer returns to the kiosk, but to the computer rental place. There he spent his time rewriting some of his writings.

“Mas, how many computer rentals per hour?” Ask Syahrel who was the first time to set foot in that place.

“Two thousand five hundred.”

“Can print?”

“Can Mas.”

Syahrel chose a place at the end of the room, considering that the place is more comfortable and not often passed by other visitors. Syahrel began rewriting and tidying up some short stories that he thought could represent the criteria of the publisher, such as his short story entitled, Love at the Foot of Rinjani, Flowers on Birthday, Prayer Sympany in Arafah, Ups, Love is indeed a delay, and several prose groups that he will summarize in one title, Do Not You Talk About Genre and Face Charm RA Kartini for Women Country.

“Mas, to save this data how?”

“Depending on Mas, want to save on CD or flash. Maybe I brought a flash?”

“I don't bring anything, just this notebook.”

“Here we sell flash also. Are you interested?”The officer offered Syahrel so persuasively.

“How much is it?”

“Yang 2 Giga, seventy thousand”

The man showed a rectangular-shaped object that was still wrapped neatly.

“So how many?”

“Flashdisk seventy thousand and computer rental four hours ten thousand. So everything is eighty thousand.”

Syahrel gave a hundred thousand rupiah.

“Before I apologize haven't finished my work. So I can't print.” yet

“It's okay Mas”

“What time does this rental usually open?”

“Jam nine in the morning we have opened kok Mas.”

“Insya Allah tomorrow I return again and if you can ask for a place at the end of this room.”

Syahrel showed me the place.

“Beres Mas, can be arranged," the employee was so friendly to welcome the thing Syahrel proposed.

“Thank you Mas.”

“Sama-sama," the man replied to Syahrel. Syahrel began to leave his profession as a newspaper seller, now he looks more fun to choose to spend time in the rental. Syahrel was able to adapt to the rental employees and sellers of computer equipment.

It has been four days Syhrel left the kiosk and more routine to the computer rental place, today some short stories and prose has been completed he is working on assisted by an employee named Anto.

“Thank you for the help of Mas Anto who would like to intervene tidying up my duties.”

“Sama-sama Mas, I also like to read short stories and novels. I like the writing of Mas called Love at the Feet of Rinjani. Great confirmation, plan for what these writings?”

“You I give to another publisher or editor.”

“Hopefully it works, I wish that from my rental place this could give birth to a young writer.”

“Amien”

“Mas, in print all.”

“Siap.”

So the spirit of Anto helped Syahrel finish some of the writing, because he really liked the writing.

“So how much is it Mas Anto?”

“For Mas I give you twenty percent discount. Everything is fifty thousand but Mas Syahrel quite love to me forty thousand.”

After being bound and wrapped neatly with a brown map, the next day Syarel will send the writings to several publishers.

                                                                            c OoO

After completing the usual routine he did in the morning, Syahrel was getting ready to give the manuscripts to several publishers. In his pocket was only a piece of money of Fifty Thousand as a provision for him to get to some of the goals of the magazine companies and publishers.

Mother does not know this, Syahrel deliberately hid, worried that mother could not accept this situation. Because only to Shahrel he devoted his life and his living.

Syahrel was in a magazine company. But Shahrel felt alien to the places he visited. Everything has to go through bureaucracy and complicated rules. His writing is widely criticized, but for Syahrel this as a motivation he for better.

There are some slashes that he received, call it Munadi, a photographer in the media who is quite famous, he sharply insinuated the writing and academic level owned Syahrel. It has nothing to do with what you want to do. “Should an author have an academic level of strata one, or diploma, indeed

someone who is just a high school graduate should not be a writer? Weird.” Syahrel was a little emotional with the words of the photographer, who criticized Syahrel's education level.

But Syahrel was not discouraged, he continued his journey, even though the distance of the publisher with each other was far from the location, but even though the sun pierced the pores, even though the sweat is mixed with murmur, this is the relization of life that must be faced.

Syahrel's goal now, he is looking for public transportation that leads to waru street in the Eastern half of Jakarta, there is one publisher of Islamic teenage books. From Pulogadung Syahrel terminal must ride again angkot towards Rawamangun.

“Mas, the script let us accept first just a few days we announce again. But do not send it

to another publisher," the woman who had been at the beginning of the meeting introduced herself by her greeting name, Nurul. He was an editor at the publishing company, so warmly he welcomed Syahrel, with a smile. Women who wear sky-blue hijab and a style of modern Muslim clothing so quickly adjust to the guests he faces. Not to forget also he explained the cooperation system they offer, there is a system of breaking up and royalties.

With the remaining Ten Thousand, Syahrel began to worry to continue his journey to the next publisher, he had to meet with Setiawan G Sasongko, a writer at a media company, in the Central Jakarta area, he had to meet with Setiawan G Sasongko, a writer at a media company, who wrote a book of motivation for the authors, Syahrel had to get to the place. With a potluck and holding hunger, he tried to give other people to the place.

Thankfully he was on the spot, at first glance hearing his explanation rarely Mas Setiawan was on the spot. For an hour he would like to take the time to tell the story of his life until he became a writer.

“At first my writing was rejected by publishers. To the point that I threw my writing in the trash. Surprisingly, the writing is now requested by several publishers, "so warmly welcome for a novice writer like Syahrel. There is no career limit between a senior writer and a novice writer.

Every life experience he experienced was full of things for, occasionally he inserted laughter when telling stories about his career path, which he thought was quite strange.

“Life this mystery Rel,"he said by showing some writings ever published by several publishers, one of which. Publishers of Islamic books that Syahrel had previously visited.

“If in this place, my writings are received about the stories of children, know the days of Hijri and its history. But as well as several other publishers, Mas Setiawan will also notify the manuscript that Syahrel sent, possibly a few weeks.”