Short Stories of Islamic Love
The Tarnished Heart

In the corner of the now-empty office room, I sobbed to my knees and buried my face there until all the flowing water slowly spilled over the part of the skirt that covered my knees. My cry was held back almost inaudible, but I don't know what brought Mary to me, because even the ants beside me didn't hear my cry. Mary hugged me tightly and now she cries in a loud, vibrating voice.

“I'm sorry.” He said, only that there was no long explanation or long-winded plea.

I didn't understand how to reveal the beginning of the incident that made me feel this pain, and what might I do and blame a friend who may never be in his mind to do this because he knows how I really feel.



Friends who willingly live life together through the love to fight sorrow together, through the night without light and explore the enchanting day until the crying feels the same and laughter is no different, and one that I always knew that Maryam was a person who never wanted to hurt others she always sowed kindness even to be willing to mortgage her happiness, she said, and this time for the first time he indirectly hurt me with the worst pain.

I'm still trying hard to remember everything, yes it all started from a small feeling that became big because I felt love was not only mine but hers as well.

“Ustadzah Nadia.” Call Ustadz Hamzah.

I turned around and glimpsed Ustadz Hamzah who stood several meters in front of me, with a smile on his face.

“Called Umi” Next.

I just nodded and rushed to meet Umi Ainun.

Until there there was nothing special from the meeting, but gradually the young Ustadz who had just graduated tahfidz Qur’an this bewitched me through the extensive Quranic education,’an, through the sound of his first adhan melodious and always me later until this second.

This one Ustadz bewitched me again with a heartfelt love when she taught the same kind of children I am today, what distinguishes me is that I declare myself to serve the pesantren that has flowed knowledge to me, until one day there will be someone who asks me to accompany him to strive in the way of Allah, which of course all through the approval of Kyai Anwar Founder of Pondok Pesantren which I have considered my own father because of his sincere affection for his santri, and I felt even more special because his wife Umi Ainun always took me to wherever she went, and from her I got more attention, so I was happy to consider her as my own mother. Moreover, Ustadz Hamzah who made me for the first time have a feeling called love is his 3rd son.

Behind all that I reflect on whether I am an ordinary santri who devotes his life to the pesantren of loving a son Kyaiku himself, whose scholarship and status are much higher than mine. The feeling was always present when I was enjoying the sound of his adat with the other feeling I had.

Until one day there was confidence in my dilemma when several times I found Ustadz Hamzah watching me while I was teaching or even found him smiling at me that I had never found before.

There was a red hue from her white face when I subconsciously returned her smile which she probably did not mean to smile directly at me.

Be happy? Sure, you know how happy you are? Immeasurably. But does that make me believe that he actually has the same feelings as me? That question becomes a pretty big point in the white uniform which is quite disturbing to look at.

And the feeling was ultimately just a happy one without thinking of any other reason, until he clearly asked me personally directly without being awkward.

“Ustadzah Nadia already have a candidate to get married?” he asked me one time when I walked together, I walked a few steps behind him, at that time we would both go to class to teach. The words he made me completely fixated until I stopped walking for a while and looked at him from behind, but I stopped the imposition and tried to walk right behind him after I quickened my pace.

“Not Ustadz, I leave everything to God and someone is already on the blessing of Umi and Kyai.” I honestly answered, not that I did not believe in my parents but their limitations on Islam made me more sure that Umi and Kyai immediately agreed.

And as Ustadz Hamzah said nothing, he just breathed deeply and nodded. I don't understand the meaning of how he responds to my answer is it a relief, but for what, is he?

On the desk I found a parcel that I thought was rice.

“Sorry whose parcel is it?” ask other teachers who are both resting. No one answers the reason simple as many people usually experience because they do not feel what is asked has nothing to do with him then they choose silence.

Curious made me long to stare at the parcel I now hold, but the truth that made me able to carelessly open it was hunger. Honestly this morning I did not have time for breakfast, but if the owner objected I promised to replace it.

I opened the package that was neatly covered by rice paper it turned out to be fried rice and that made me wonder after the rice spread embossed with a piece of paper located in the middle of the rice.

“love is indeed only God knows who will be anchored to whom, but everything must be the best, and with this I tuck all the peace upon you.”

Folding back the paper that made my heart rumble and put it in my pocket, I saw one by one the teachers in the office, the average Ustadz who taught had a wife except Ustadz Abdullah and Ustadz Husen, there was an impulse that whispered that they could not, obviously they were silent when I asked them earlier. Or even one of them deliberately silent to keep secret what they have done?

And the strongest guess is this from Ustadz Abdullah he had openly expressed his feelings for me, but I can do what to repay? It was obviously impossible until now that I had never even answered her feelings, a smile I guess was better than a speech that might only hurt her.

“Nad.” Maryam's voice surprised me. I was aghast from the daydreams that led me to a false memory.

“Maryam ngagetin aja.”

“Ndreamunin Ustadz Hamzah yes, let's ngaku.” Maryam teases me, she knows my feelings that recently appeared to Ustadz Hamzah because since long ago Maryam was a place to pour out all my heart, no matter how small about me she knows.

“Liat deh Yam, I found this in a rice parcel, it's strange that time yes there is a paper in the middle of rice.” I handed him the piece of paper I had just met.

“Ah from Ustadz Hamzah time.” Maryam tried to second-guess with a still seductive tone.

I just shrugged, so far I do not imagine that the person who deliberately put the rice parcel along with a piece of paper was Ustadz Hamzah.

“It looks like yes Nad this must be Ustadz Hamzah, because he said he wanted to be betrothed to the same santri in our Pesantren, well santriwati who is ready to marry anyone else if not you, he said, moreover, you are the golden child of Umi Ainun.” Maryam was so enthusiastic about revealing the possibility. He seemed to find a bright spot of curiosity for someone who would be edited for Ustadz Hamzah.

“Where do you know that Ustadz Hamzah wants to be betrothed?”

“tadi I heard myself when the Kyai family gathered talking about matchmaking.” Maryam emphasizes the word matchmaking.

And that morning how it was possible that Maryam and all the dreams of my feelings felt so real.

“Ustadzah Nadia, how to read?” the words immediately ringing in my ears like the calm of the night when my mother sang Nina bobo, I could not express how she felt and I could hardly believe my own hearing.

“Ustadz.” My words are unstoppable.

“I'm sorry if it bothers you.” Ustadz Hamzah with his cold attitude again left me with a thousand infinite bliss.

Mariam. This one woman was indeed able to make me believe one thing that I clearly did not believe, making me believe that the soul mate will come to me with a variety of reasonableness in it. And now all my feelings became natural when my race was accepted.

“Ustadzah Maryam and Ustadzah Nadia called Umi.” Suddenly one of the new students approached me who was sitting together with Maryam.

“Oh yes thanks de.” My answer.

“That's what I said.” Maryam drowned my arm.

I just shook my head without responding with a speech, Maryam suddenly stopped her steps there was a look of surprise that she showed

“Umi same Abi here, why?” maryam asked astonished when she saw the car parked in front of the courtyard of Umi Ainun's house.

“Oh yes it's Umi you, I can acquaintance dong, so far your parents have never come to visit Pesantren.” There is a happy moment when my best friend's parents can now meet.

“Well that he did try, usually also never here.” Maryam clearly seems strange to describe a happiness that other people usually feel.

“Later also know for yourself, come ah.”

“Maryam, Nadia log in nak.” Umi Ainun said when she saw Mary and I standing at the door.

After saying the greeting Maryam immediately greet the hands of her parents, now I know from the appearance it turns out that Maryam's parents can be said to be a religious educated person maybe Ustadz or even a Kyai.

I sat at the place where Umi Ainun was welcome, it turned out that this was indeed an important event seen from all family members present at that time.

“So gini Maryam, Umi same Abi came here to tell you about your marriage, insha Allah we will immediately remember our pesantren lack of trained teachers let alone the problem of Al-Qur’an well to overcome the problem that Umi has spoken to Umi Ainun who is willing to marry you to Ustadz Hamzah.” The thunderous lightning snatched my hearing like it was pierced with thorns in a row when the name that became the main key to my dreams and feelings was mentioned. But the deal became clear when I now knew Maryam's parents were the founders of a pesantren as well. Should the happiness that I just woke up collapse instantly.

“Umi.” Maryam's voice choked she tried to shake her head even a few times.

Ustadz Hamzah, who had been bowing his head, now lifted him with eyes wide in disbelief.

“I believe Maryam and Hamzah are a suitable couple and it's been through the istikhoroh that I and Umi Ainun did, ' he said, I cannot oppose Allah's answer therefore no matter what the conditions are in the end I must be brought to Kyai Ahmad pesantren to serve there, as Maryam who has pledged herself to serve in this pesantren.” Kyai Anwar explained the meaning of this marriage to both of them. And at that time I wanted to feel like I was yelling at one of them to reject this matchmaking, but until some time from the present just fell silent, no one has the power to say anything more to argue with their parents.

“Nadia you can prepare our Islamic Lengser children for the wedding ceremony later?” asked Umi Ainun who made me aware of the disappointment and pain that was still restrained.

I nodded my head helplessly I replied even though it was only ‘naam’.

“Maryam, the bride-to-be should not meet until the time comes therefore other than to convey the news of your wedding Umi came here to pick you home.” Umi Maryam explained.

The prospect of the besan facing now talk about every detail of the wedding that they will hold in the near future, they sometimes smile in agreement or comment on each other and all that makes me want to explode.

Finally I ventured to leave when there was no interest, and as I had expected I was only a small ant who was feeling overwhelmed and was happily invited to leave.

And here I am now lamenting the most painful moments of my life remembering everything I have experienced in such a short period of time, it even felt so short as if it was just a pause between takbir and iftah.

Maryam still hugged me. Her crying never subsided. Allah! It hurts, I can no longer endure pain but I also can not let my own friend bear the burden and deep guilt against me.

Now that I rubbed Mary's knees to calm her down, she let go of her embrace and looked at me deeply until I could not bear to be looked upon with supplication.

I bow my head deep.

“Marry me promise I will give you the most special appearance for your wedding later.”

“I'm sorry.” That sentence was just the one he had repeated since earlier.

I tried to convince my own heart of what I was going to say

“I still have faith and hold the pillars of Faith in my heart and all the joints of my life, you do not need to apologize this is God's fairest destiny and whatever it is I still have to believe it. Believe me I'm Ikhlas” Actually I do not believe in my own words even this heart still I can not lie actually Ikhlas I said is not entirely perfect when the heart even screams to berate reality.

Mary hugged me again with the same cry.

“Married, at least I know what kind of woman will be the wife of someone I love.”