SELAQ
Episode "Pancalita Drunk Asmara" (48)

This is what Bolo felt. Floating lightly even though his body was like a python that had just swallowed a goat! But the desire to eat good, it defeats everything. Including the laziness that resides in the fat of his body that clumps.

Instead, Blokpentes are overwhelmed.  He did not expect, his teasing on the thigh of the deer made Bolo, like a diabolism. His steps are several times left behind and he can only moan with breath sting “Bolo's elan, wait,” groaned with a yellowed look.

“Your path is exactly pregnant women,” boos Bolo.

After a long, winding journey, and breaking through the thickets, the two arrived at the edge of a steep ravine.

Though most of the energy in their bodies has been spent to reach that place, but it turns out that the journey sucked adrenaline as if it had just begun.

In front of them, the cliff only provided a thin road with a width of less than one inch. While the end of the road is nowhere to be seen. The thick fog not only blocked the view in front, but also covered the bottom of the deep ravine.

Although invisible, but hundreds of spears below it has been gaping the ravine with the bottom of the lake as soon as Anak.

Falling means dying!

Passing the skinny road, can not just rely on footstool. Hands must be good at choosing a firm holding place. Whether it's small rocks that protrude on the cliff wall or grass that grows rough.

“Eee ... Is there no other way?” bolo said with a stinged breath. Face's tense.  The guts are shrinking, about the size of a green bean seed. Knees trembling. His hands and feet were cold and sweaty.

“Don't mind the way, but think of the moose thighs in that house,”

Blokpentes tries to pump Bolo's spirit back up. Honey, the effort's not much use. Bolo staggered, dizzy. Then sit down, afraid of heights!

“You go,” said Bolo with a deathly pale face.

Vaguely in the distance, the palace was seen among the thin mist that was slowly swept away by the wind.

“So from there overnight light source,” murmured Blokpentes.

The palace was across the far side of that steep cliff. The swaggering aura of the building was felt from where Blokpentes stood.

The roof and walls of the palace building, glittering struck by the light of the morning sun that broke through from between the leafy leaves.

The higher the Surya climbed the sky, the clearer the appearance of the hidden palace.

A building with a dominant white color. And the roof of dark ash color.

Between the roof of the Palace that rises rival the small hills on the ridge of Mount Rinjani, a higher tower is no less mighty, designed to challenge the sky.

The palace is no less than four floors. Seen from the arranged windows and can be calculated from outside the building. At first glance the building has rivaled the masterpiece of Bavarian King Ludwig II who has made Neuschwanstein Palace on the top of the mountains near Hohenschwangau, Germany.

Looks long snaking walls surround solidly. In its arrogance, the palace was shrouded in a grove of trees. Like, Kayu Jakut, Menang/Garu, Sentul, to Cemara Gunung.

The opening of the palace looked from the outside, not comparable to the mysteries hidden in it. Even the merry birds tawaf on top of the building, did not reduce its awesomeness at all.

“You sure you won't come?” Blokpentes fixed the cloth wrapped around his waist. His determination was round, had to set foot in the palace.

“Sa ... when you return, do not forget to bring the thighs of the deer,” said Bolo stammering. His breath was still exhausted.

No more drooling at the corners of her small lips. Throat's drying. His eyes were stifling, holding back hunger. Now his head was as big as a pumpkin and could only shiver to hold his stomach wrapped around hunger.

Blokpentes, aware that his best friend reached the end of his energy.

 Bolo is too excited and forgets to leave the energy to pass the steep cliff. Now he was having a difficult situation: his breathing was shortening. Stinged. The stomach is like being shaken, until it feels sore and nauseous. And ...

“Huaaks ... Huaakss!” Bolo, vomit. But no one came out. Unless his saliva thickens. His face was getting pale and tired.

“I ... I'm going to sleep, tired, tired,”.

Blokpentes took out a container of copper tucked in his waist. The container was as big as a palm and instantly spread a sweet fragrant aroma.

“Drink this honey to restore energy,” Blokpentes said thrusting the container.

“Gleg ... Gleg...!”

Bolo drank honey like a sip of water. The thick honey immediately passed through his dry throat. Even though his neck was made hot and seemed to be suffocating, he continued to gulp it down.

Not long after, Bolo felt his strength recover quickly.

“Sit's half,” said Blokpentes who are still laughing at the fog. Find the edge of the cliff that will be passed.

“Eh ...,” Bolo chirps and looks with a guilty look at Blokpentes.

The honey in the container ran out and he was hunting down the few drops left with his index finger.

Blokpentes is no less surprised. He turned away from the fog and found the container was clean.

“Why didn't you leave?!” Blokpentes.

“I think all for me,” said Bolo, confused.

“Restore just a little!” blokpentes exclaimed, strangling Bolo's neck.

Bolo. Trying to open the Blokpentes giggles. When released, he pushed Blokpentes' body to the side until it bounced into the thicket.

“Uhuk ... Uhuk!” Bolo coughing. Even so, he still admitted wrong. Then try to seduce Blokpentes to forgive him, “Wait for me here, I will go home to the village and come back here immediately while bringing honey, drinks, and food for you,”

“No need!” sahut Blokpentes is upset.

He immediately crept on that steep cliff. Leaving Bolo staring at his departure further away with guilt.

***

Love is love. No need to decipher. The arrogance of the poets defines its meaning, it scatters its very subtle sparklers.

Everyone has different feelings about love. Like the sweet taste of sugar that actually varies on each tongue.

The definition just makes it sweet meaning and love is further and further away from the nature of her face.

Jalaluddin Rumi in the Diwan Shamsi Tabriz once said:

Even though Love has been described and I explain at length,

But if my love comes, I am ashamed of my own testimony,

Although my tongue has been able to decipher,

While the pen was in such a hurry to write it down,

Words break into pieces once they get to love,

In expounding love, reason lies helpless.

Like a donkey lying in the mud,

Love alone explains love and romance.

So really, nothing can be explained, why Pancalita almost went crazy just because of a young man. The night was long waiting for the morning, just to steal a look at Puq Amet's nephew.

So did the day blanketed the night quickly, when the young man made time to accompany him.

“Oh, doesn't he feel the same taste?”

A question he hated. Because after all, he was the head of the village more than a woman. It was impossible for that question to be asked directly at the young man.

“What's your name?” ask Pancalita, once upon a time.

“Ampun mister princess. My name is Artha Prana,” replied the young man.

Pancalita. Blood rustling. He looked at the young man's face. Getting close. And increasingly clingy. Now their faces are only three. Very close!

The way he looked at Pancalita made the young man misbehaved and nervous. It is like being confronted by a judge who will decide his fate: life or death!

“Do I deserve to be looked at like this princess?” said the young man.

Pancalita was shocked. He immediately corrected his attitude and turned his body. Throwing his gaze all the way to the wild-growing flowers on the ridges of the hills.

“Your name, reminds me of someone, he's the head of Pusuk Village. Her name is the same as Artha Prana,” said Pancalita, then wrinkled her eyes. Biting his lips.

His heart is pounding, very fast. The more fixed he looked at the young man, the clearer his charm line became. Then inwardly weeping, grimacing, “Oh Sang Hyang Kuase, which gods did you send to this earth?”

“I think only I have a name like this, Mr. Princess,” replied Artha Prana with a plain face.

“Haha..” Pancalita welcomed Artha Prana's reply with a crisp laugh.

Describing her mood was present in her happiness this morning. He likes the innocent and innocent attitude of Artha Prana. Then back inside, “She also may not know, what is love,”

“Will your name be changed?” ask Pancalita later.

“For what, princess?” artha Prana asked in confusion.

Pancalita. He did not expect the young man to ask why he wanted to change his name. In his mind, he suspected that the young man would just comply. Isn't he the village chief?

“Mmm... Eee, I mean just a call. Yes to distinguish between Artha Prana village head of Pusuk with Artha Prana, nephew Puq Amet,” said, Pancalita then glanced silently, secretly, stealing a glance at the face of Artha Prana who was still standing with her head bowed respectfully.

The man smiled.

And again hit the heart of Pancalita to pounding. He couldn't help but smile.

“Please forgive princess. I'm just an ordinary villager and Artha Prana the other one is the Village Chief, enough fate line sets us apart and makes me lose, so I don't have to give up again from the name,” he replied, well-mannered.