REMEDIALLY
Unplugging without ever grasping

Five days passed after meeting with Fara, Mima was very happy, though she was worried whether Fara was disturbed by their meeting? Mima himself began to familiarize himself, after asking for Fara's mobile number. She is getting happier, because Fara also saves her contacts. Mima can see the activity Fara shared on whatsapnya.

Fara shared many things there, almost every post Fara commented by Mima, although not all comments were immediately replied to by his old friend.

That evening Mima's hands sweat after slipping a small needle to tidy up the hijab she was wearing. The mirror displayed a shadow of her wearing a bone-white kaftan that looked perfectly compatible with her young blue hijab.

Today she was so nervous, Mima thought it was a factor in her clothing color selection, after all this time she almost never chose a color as bright as this. Mima si ‘the true mamba’ girl of the day learned to liven up her spirit through color.

While checking the contents of her bag, Mima sat down on a wooden chair beside her bed. Then Mima took a large paper bag containing a gift from her for Fara and her future husband.

Mima began to daub the phone screen, opening the online taxi application page that he would order. But the nervousness he felt did not also subside, changing into indiscriminate anxiety. Though he will only be present as an invited guest, but it feels like he will be proposed, even more than that.

“Pull breath, exhale..” Mima gave istruksi to himself. He took a slow breath then blew it, repeatedly several times.

“Why are you, Mima? It's a proposal, Fara, not your show! Why are you so anxious as if you were afraid that your bridegroom would run away from this arrangement?” he said to himself.

“What, you also want to apply? You forget, all your life, you've never really wanted someone. Who will propose to you? Your fault, why always fall in love with people who already have?”

“Mima Ayumna, if you think you're done remedial, you're wrong. Now you're just about to be tested, Mima. Strong... yes!”

Slowly the taste of grief crept up, flattened all over his body after a dialogue with himself.

Then he focused again to the application page, just now Mima will input the address that Gilang gave him, pop up the notification window on the phone instead displays a new notification from Instagram. Mima reflex's thumb taps on that line so that it displays the page of a message request from an unfamiliar account.

Noname: Ayumna, you still have a story debt.

It was not difficult to conclude that the one who sent him the message was Ahsan Eshaka. A very annoying conductor for Mima both in the occult and the real world.

Nervousness increased, it turns out that since then his heart was not pounding because it would attend the wedding of Fara, but gave a sign that it would get a line of messages from Shaka, it turns out his anxiety did not come from the color blue, but gave a sign that it will get a line of messages from Shaka, it turns out that his anxiety did not come from the color blue, but the spark of longing.

What makes you curious about my story, Shaka? Soon you will have a new story. And there's no me there. If there is, I am not the main character. 

Slowly seeping again, down every inch of the artery, Mima recalls almost every second of her first and last encounter with Shaka. He still perfectly memorized every question he asked, and every answer Shaka gave.

Oh no, Mima also memorized every moment they took a photo together. Since Shaka left, Mima has always checked the photo gallery on her phone, but nothing has been stored there. All photos are always taken from HP Shaka.

“You and the waterfall that is set off from the high cliff, immediately became the coolest charm in my eyes,” Shaka said before photographing himself from beside the Anai valley waterfall.

The past on the fun part is the energy. Mima believes that even if possible he wants to write, that love has a lot of energy and can live across dimensions.

Mima remembers every detail attached to the man, from his conductor uniform and his pet hat, white cocoa shirt, peci, and so on, footwear until a small towel wrapped around his neck every Shaka after jogging and appeared in the kitchen window of his house.

Since Shaka left, hardly a day has passed without hearing Shaka's voice in his head, his expression as he let off laughter and the many clues he actually gave but it was too late to realize Mima.

“Even if you have a thousand khilaf, I still have a thousand apologies,” Mima recalls again about Shaka's sentence every time she forgave Mima's mistake.

It makes Mima has not been able to make peace with all the words “andai” in his heart. If at that time he does not ignore Shaka, if he is more quickly aware of the nature of the remedial, or if Shaka all you do not need to be on his way.

“And if Farhana remembered that day, she must have been amused to remember it, that she had once been so aggressively chasing after Shaka. If Farha remembers for sure she also admitted, how amazing the figure of the conductor disguised as a child MA at that time.

A moment later, the little candle in Mima's heart refused to go out. Though the founder's hopes about Shaka are beginning to fade. Recollecting those days actually makes the kobar feelings re-enlarged.

“But it's Saturday, Mima!” His heart suddenly sounded insolent. As a reminder that today he was invited. I was invited to blow the candles myself.

Mima adjusted his roar violently, in order to withstand the pace of his tears that were ready to be torn at any time, at any time, Commanding his fingers to type a reply to the strange account that seemed deliberately made to send a message to Mima, because the original account of the person had no access to contact Mima.

Mima: Forget it, Mr. Conductor. We accidentally met in the carriage that afternoon. I got the wrong guy. No story, no debt.

Mima smiled bitterly imagining that at this time Shaka must be wearing a black suit, Navy or ash, his haircut is always neat, smiling walking towards the real wife.

Shaka : I have already recorded everything in memory, and I am sure, in this world there is not a single thing worthy of being called “coincidence.”

While there was only silence after reading the message from Shaka, how much more dialogue should Mima keep as a wise memory in the head?

Of course Shaka will never be more than that, no matter how wise the strands of words he sends, the fact is that now Shaka is looking at the life and future he will live.

Mima dodged the phone screen, as if she was evading Shaka's gaze.

“Let go without ever grasping, weird. Happy happy, Shaka.”

Mima let the message be read only and had no intention of replying to it.