ONE LOVE, TWO CONTINENTS
Does Sudra Love Waisya?

These eyes were still staring expectantly. Yeah, hope the girl comes back. Even if it was just for a moment, it was already quite soothing to the heart.

Almost two weeks after the incident, Dita never appeared even though only a shadow and nose. What is expected when the morning comes, is none other than for Dita to go through the road when they first met.

The feeling of wanting to meet the bigger the day. Syahrel did not deny that he fell in love. There are many reasons to deny this, whether that distinction limits human nature and human rights as Hawaiian beings.

Is a Sudra forbidden to love the descendants of Waisya so that the human right to love each other and love is limited to the walls of castration? This is a consideration in the mind of Syahrel to approach him or feel unworthy to have Dita because caste becomes a barrier gap.

Every now and then Syahrel thinks that there is a limit to one name of love, is it fair that love if the poor abstain from loving a lover who is more than him or the ugly is not allowed to have an angel or the handicapped is forbidden to fall in love?

Syahrel denied everything, there is no longer a word of difference for the breath of love. Doesn't love bring together two differences that blind age, social strata, or class? Finally he realized that he was drugged by the arrow of romance.

Keep in mind that when the word love is in someone's heart, then he is usually ready with what will happen, whether sweet or inviting tears, all of that must be accepted.

 Syahrel also realized what would happen later. From the beginning of the meeting, the feeling in his heart to get to know him more closely began to arise and finally asked for a little heart space. It has become a human thing.

His days are now filled with curiosity about the figure of the beloved, the view was not separated, these eyes thirst for coolness even though only to see the black curve of the eye eyebrows pujaan.

Hearing his name mentioned can also be the fruit of endless stories. Every time you go home to wash clothes at the house of Mr. Anggoro, lips want to ask questions and ears want to hear news about him.

“Mother....?”.

“What? Nothing else you will ask about Pak Anggoro's daughter is not it?” Mother immediately guessed what Syahrel would question, it has become a habit now.

“Son, no mother forbid you to fall in love with anyone. But mother ask you to know who he is and measure your own abilities.”

They chatted while Syahrel prepared a meal and spooned rice for Mother. Shaken Syahrel heard mother's words.

“Means mother?”

“Yes, do not let you be insulted by treasure, later become the lips of neighbors. If it comes to the ears of Mr. Anggoro, mother is afraid of anything happening with you son. Mommy does not accept if later you become the lips of people around us," said the mother explained.

Syahrel was pensive to digest every word you say, afraid to be a difference of opinion with mother, later mother offended and finally cried. Syahrel didn't want this to happen.

Still no change. Syahrel still hopes to meet with Dita tomorrow. Each Syahrel sent a newspaper deliberately he through the house of Pak Anggoro. Who knows, today he was lucky to meet Dita.

All of his subscription newspaper orders were sent earlier than usual in order to be able to observe the residence of Mr. Anggoro longer, hoping to see Dita this morning. But the hope was empty, neither did Syahrel meet him.

“Maybe Dita is still sleeping," he murmured at heart comforting himself.

It's the sixth day, heard from mother that Non Dita is again busy with assignments from campus. It has been seven semesters this year, so a lot of campus assignments that must be completed immediately.

Seven days of sunrise this morning. Lately it has been raining a lot. But Syahrel's curiosity got bigger to just look at Dita's face.

Almost half an hour Syahrel stood at the door of Pak Anggoro's yard. Is it possible that hope is still empty for Syahrel?

The bike is heavy because this morning it might rain. Two pedals in the swing, the sound of the door sounding hastily. Syahrel's mind was empty because he had not found Dita out of the house for a week.

“News!”

The voice called out against the daydream, and Shahrel searched for the source of the voice. Syahrel looked back, but he could not find it.

It turned out that there was only one little boy who was engrossed in playing the ground. He returned to his bike, empty.

Suddenly...

“Koran..koran..Mas, newspaper!”.

Syahrel looks back, “Dita?” Saying Shahrel in the heart.

Immediately Syahrel turned back his bike, approaching the voice that called, with a swift hand brake clasped him.

“What newspaper Dit?”

“There's a magazine Photograph?”

Look for the magazine that Dita called in a hurry. At last...

“There is one, but the edition is late, a month ago.”

“Yes, it's okay. Just looking for references for campus assignments kok.”

“How much?” Dita continued.

“Twelve thousand only, because it is already one month late, so I give you a discount," Syahrel said.

“For journalistic tasks?”Syahrel ventured.

 “Iya.”

“There are good magazines for novice journalists.”

“What is the name of the magazine?”

“If there is, please,"reply Dita.

“Indent material, must order first. At least two to three days.”

“But please bring ya?”

“What theme do you create?”

Syahrel knew a little about journalism.

“Editorial.”

 “There is a good book, the title is The Handbook of Journalism by Karin Wahl-Jorgensen and Thomas Hanitzsch, "no science from which Syahrel learned so that Syahrel a little understanding of journalism.

“You're in college?” tanya Dita who was a little complacent with the charism of understanding that Syahrel had.

 “Iya, lecture.”

“Where?” tanya Dita is getting curious.

“UI.”

“University of Indonesia?”

 “Iya. Not in the classroom but in the canteen or on the edge of the lake UI.”

“ Not funny! Seriously...” Dita looks upset with the words of Syahrel who digress.

“I didn't go to college.”

“If you don't go to college to understand journalism?”

“Ya how else, the name is also selling newspapers. If not newspapers and magazines that became friends, then who else?”

“Oh, so read the newspaper?”

“Iya..”

“But how can you know the title of the book and author in the field of journalism that you mentioned earlier?”

“Kan read his books and magazines..”

They look more familiar than ever. When Dita wanted to close the conversation because she had to go to campus, something seemed to surprise Syahrel.

Behind the shirt he wore, precisely on the neck of Dita white gold necklace wrapped in the figure of a saint for certain people who are believed to be the son of God. One test of seriousness must be faced, loving above the differences of the opposing divine ideologies.

“Don't forget the order magazine Dita ya. Oh yeah, almost forgot. What's your name?”

“Call me Syahrel,"Syahrel slowly passed away.

“If you want to send a magazine a little afternoon, yes, around four o'clock," cried Dita.

The taste was cured, more than enough. Initially Syahrel only hoped to see Dita's face but there was a lot they talked about. There is a story left, only God knows this mystery.

Should this story end here because of the differences they face? Let time write this storyline, let His pen incline the scenario of the great play of the creator.

Paddling the bike pedal now is not like six days ago, there is really no result. Today the winds of heaven are blowing, the beginning of a long narrative for an indeterminate time.

There is much to be faced and there are still many hopes and beautiful dreams for one night that is not expected at last if it is a beautiful dream. Hope in full prayer is said so shahdu. May togetherness continue like this.

Will the longing to stay together not make Syahrel shiver until he does not understand the tears of longing to dry up in the long wait? The reality of the path we choose must be faced as a consequence.

There is no bad destiny that God does not determine, there is no good that God does not outline. All return to the person who has been equipped with the mind and heart. The reason to think of the good or bad we choose. The heart of the antidote to the consideration of the path of choice and prayer as a message of Robbaniyah and hope.

Dita's order is a sign that there is still an opportunity for Syahrel to meet Dita again.

“Journalist To Basic Magazine." Syahrel tried to recall Dita's order. It's an outside magazine that needs to be bespoke, two or three days new up. After closing the stall, Syahrel had to go to an agent to order the magazine. Let's get there fast.

“Mas Agus, this is my shopping list for tomorrow.”

“Many orders apparently?” he saw the list of groceries Syahrel.

“Mas, iki any item indent rupane?!” Tanya Mas Agus with thick Javanese language.

“Iya, item order.”

“At most three days yes Mas.”

“Yowis, by opo-opo." Syahrel replied with Javanese accent as well.

Mega at the west end is almost reddened in color. Before Maghrib Syahrel must arrive at home to hurry to prepare all the needs of the mosque until the age of Isya prayer.