SKULLCAP
11. Meaningful Visits

...11. Meaningful Visits...

Assistant Professor Gunadi said that his guidance counselor could be found tomorrow on campus. Time will be informed.

How glad he got the news. After three weeks more got a schedule to meet with the lecturer. Of course the distance was accumulated from the meeting that should have been done with Prof Gunadi during the big demo last time. But the meeting failed and added more waiting time to make a re-guidance appointment.

On the other hand, the less pleasant news made him a little shaky and uneasy. Asthari reported that his visa documents had been completed.

While two days ago Mas Cipta offered a vacation to Canada as a gift after he graduated. Even his first brother asked him to make a passport and a visit visa as soon as possible so that he could depart along with Asthari. Cipta will bear all the accommodations.

Unfortunately, Asthari will be leaving the final three weeks from now. The script is not clear when it will be completed. It's no longer about her graduation without Asthari. But also the wishful thinking to Canada with Asthari was delayed.

Wouldn't it be if he could go with Asthari more fun. Moreover, he has never been abroad. Unlike the other siblings who may have been and live abroad because you have studied there.

Today he will accompany Asthari to buy something that will be brought to Canada. His sister asked him to accompany her.

“Kok pout so?” greet Asthari as she gets into the car.

He slammed his body into the driver's side seat. “Can't be delayed again?” whining.

“Quiet, Sapta will be present at the graduation lo represent me,” said Asthari. “Lo can also follow, after graduation. Even after judicium.”

He refused to reply about when he would be at graduation. “You looking for what the hell? Food order Mas Cipta?” grunts shifted the topic. There is a sheet of paper full of Mas Cipta order notes that were sent yesterday via message. Actually it is not Mas Cipta who ordered, but more orders from Mbak Rara—istri Mas Cipta. Start the patching, abon, salted fish, coffee, tea, fried onions, dried spices, tempe chips, banana sale, to petai and jengkol. And there are many more lists that have not been mentioned. Maybe Ms. Rara wants to open a warung warteg in Canada.

“Not,” sahut Asthari. “There is a jastip,” timpalnya.

“Who?”

“The theme is Mbak Rara.”

“Oo ..”

“Eh, really. Lo can overtake the judicium,” said Asthari again touched on the script.

“The problem in three weeks can be up to the trial not?” The impossible question was asked. Where maybe in three weeks he could have a thesis trial. While the discussion chapter alone still hangs on Prof Gunadi's clothesline pole.

“Not end of trial lo judisium?”

“Iya anyway.”

“Mm, maybe if you use the maximum speed. Lo pepet hold Prof Gun. A week can be done 2-3 times. After the last chapter of the revision, you are adjuvant,” proposes Asthari.

It feels far from the fire. “Prof Gunadi is very busy. Final assignment guidance is limited to two weeks. If you are lucky once a week,” cerocosnya.

“Try me for a reason. Let it be twice a week,” Asthari's advice.

“What reason? To Canada?” dexterously. “Mana in excuse, same her. Know Na abah only do not ngaruh.”

“Pad too, yes,” says Asthari.

They arrived at their destination. Apparently Asthari took her to a store that sold traditional fabrics.

“Today, Mbak?” he asked when Asthari's car stopped right in front of the store.

Asthari. Make a video connection to someone in Canada when they enter the store. “Find the same songket cloth batik,” Asthari told him.

He chose to sit waiting while looking at the booklet that displays various products from the store.

All products are native to Indonesia. Starting songket, weaving, ulos, carpets, batik and many more kinds.

The shop is not too crowded. The average buyer of mothers except them.

Asthari. “You think this one is good, no?” Showing the songket cloth in his hand.

“Good,” sahut. “Teman Mbak Rara indeed choose which one?” Because it looks like Asthari is carrying two songket cloths. But only ask for consideration one cloth only.

“She chose this too,” Asthari said showing songket which is in the right hand.

“This one, Mbak.” Asthari handed over the cloth she had chosen to the shopkeeper.

“Lo, don't be picky, How to make a graduation?” sergeant Asthari. “Mump I can nganter.”

“The theme is Mbak Rara wants an anniversary. Indo, but has moved citizenship. He said he wanted a celebration like that reception,” Asthari explained.

Ahead of the afternoon Asthari invited him to visit the abah resting house. He bought 5 bags of concocted flowers and rose water that were sold near the entrance.

“Abah must be proud of Astha Ma'am,” he said. The two walked along the path paving the block.

“Unfortunately abah has gone first, Na.”

“But look, Ma'am. There must be very proud.”

Asthari just held back a smile. Between happy and sad. If there were still happiness it would be perfect.

They arrived at Abah's tomb. Both are heard greeting at the same time. He sowed some flowers on a mound of soil overgrown with grass. Asthari sprinkled rose water on the grave.

In a few moments both of them sat down to pray for Abah. Down with his hands up. Khushuu.

A little sound from Asthari. By the time they finished praying. Asthari rubbed her cheek. Squeezed the trunk of his nose.

“Bah, Madam Astha soon followed by Mas Cipta. Must be proud,”. He collected dried leaves and flowers on top of the grave. Put in a plastic bag used flowers.

“Alba is always proud of his children,” timpal Asthari.

“There is a successor abah,” he added.

“That never demands us like abah. But you always set a good example for us,” said Asthari.

“We all kangen abah.” His eyes were glazed. Asthari patted him on the shoulder and took him to another place.

He nodded. Before leaving he took the time to wipe the gravestone, then kissed the hand of the former swab. And so did Asthari.

Both went to the other tomb. Still in one area. However, the alphabet is different. A little far away because it is at the end of the cemetery.

His steps came to a halt as they passed other pilgrims to give way. Then go back to walking. Every Thursday afternoon this cemetery is quite crowded visited by pilgrims.

His steps stopped again as he passed the man wearing sunglasses. He and the man were silent.

“Nawa,” call the man a little surprised.

“Bang Saba.” He was no less surprised. “Abang ...”

“Custom. I look at someone,” tangkas Saba. Take off his sunglasses.

“Oos. This is Ma'am Astha. My sister.” He introduced Asthari to Saba.

Asthari reviewed the smile and lowered her head slightly.

“Dia, Bang Saba,” she explained on Asthari. “We ... have just been to abah,” point it at abah grave area.

Saba gave a smile. Then said, “I first,” pamitnya.

He nodded. So did Asthari who returned to smile. He gave way to Saba who was about to pass.

“Who, Na?” asthari asked, looking back when Saba had left and getting further away.

“Temen.” He walked back. Asthari.

“Maybe his brother is also buried here,” Agile Asthari.

“Maybe,” timpalnya.

They arrived at the intended place. In front of them were four gravestones close to each other.

The two say hello almost simultaneously. He again sowed flowers on four mounds of land covered with grass quite thick. While Asthari spent the rest of the bottle of rose water to be splashed on each of these headstones.

He was crouching on one of the gravestones. Pluck the weeds that grow on mounds of soil. Spreading the flowers to the end.

“Not so long ago Na dream about Mas Panca,” he said. “Sorry, Na has just taken a look now.”