The Light of Love for Seroja
CCUS 45: Nothing Has Changed

The sun still looks timid when Seroja swings his footsteps down the narrow alley in front of his house. Although the hour hand has shown at eleven o'clock in the afternoon, but the day still looks dim because it was from morning the king did not show his face. Choose to hide behind a gray cloud.

"Where is Ja from? How come your luggage is so much?"

Fakhru who walked past Seroja was a little astonished by the plastic bags carried by the woman. Because indeed, the one carried by Seroja looks a lot and heavy. It was like trouble brought him.

Seroja put for a moment the plastic bags that he brought over the paving block that is characteristic of this area where he lived. Sometimes he was seen wiping the sweat on his face with a tissue. Although the atmosphere is a little cloudy but can not block the sweat to drip wet the face.

"I've just been shopping for fabrics and some other sewing necessities, Ru. At the cloth shop that was across the highway."

"Kok tumben a lot of your groceries? You usually shop online, right? Why are you shopping for yourself today?"

Three days in this localization increasingly makes Fakhru understand the daily life of Seroja. The woman seemed so eager to run a diligent business. He made clothing designs, he sewed them, and he sold them himself. Seeing the daily life of Seroja who is always busy with his work makes the young man so curious about the business done by his childhood friend. On a whim, he opened a social media account owned by Seroja and sure enough, the clothes offered by Seroja get a very good response from the market.

"I have to make sure the quality of the fabric I use is good, Ru. What I'm going to do is in a pretty big party. I don't want to disappoint customers, if the fabric I use doesn't match their expectations."

Fakhru nodded his head. She just understood this woman was willing to bother herself to buy materials to make clothes for the quality of the customers themselves. "Then, the order in the big party you will finish with whom? Do you want to finish it yourself?"

Seroja only seemed to review a little smile. "InshaAllah I can solve everything according to the time set, Ru. From today I focus on this big party order first. Only when I'm done can I produce more clothes."

"Why don't you invite the people around here to help you Ja?"

The question escaped Fakhru's lips. The young man thought that the people around here could help the woman in running her business. Perhaps it can also empower the potential possessed by the people around here.

Seroja smiled faintly listening to Fakhru's proposal. Indeed, the proposal expressed by his childhood friend sounds like it will help him a lot but there is one big thing he thinks.

"Since what I made to get a good response from the market, I was thinking of adding employees to help me. Yet.... "

Seroja paused his words. He thought there was no need to say what was his obstacle in front of others. He will only continue to try to collect little by little the profit he earned and later from the profit he can use to buy or rent a shophouse and some more sewing equipment to raise the effort he went through.

"But you are constrained about the place and also the limited number of machines?"

Seroja gasped to hear his childhood friend was able to guess what was in his mind. A split second the woman was flabbergasted, but in the end the small ruckus sounded out from her lips. "Did Ustadz Hakim teach you the science of reading people's minds?"

The young man was also heard chuckling softly until the two dimples were again printed on his cheekbones. "Ustadz Hakim never taught me the science of reading people's minds."

"Then, how can you read what's in my head Ru?"

Fakhru's index finger pointed over Seroja's head which made the woman even more confused. "That over your head comes smoke that forms the word place and the number of machines. From there I know that what is in your control are those two things."

"Pfftt .. You are here, Ru. You haven't changed much."

Laughter that can no longer be held back by Seroja. Yes, Fakhru is still Fakhru, since childhood this young man is indeed good at entertaining. Once when he cried because he was made fun of by his playmates, it was Fakhru who always tried to calm him. Not only got there, after that Fakhru certainly continued his jokes by telling things that sounded funny and successfully replaced the cries of sadness that he felt into an irresistible laughter.

"There are some things that cannot change from within us, Ja. One of the good we have. Joking around like that isn't one of my kindnesses? It can make others laugh, inshaAllah will be worth the reward."

Seroja is getting stifled. There was something that his childhood friend had said. He reached into the wallet he kept in the bag. He took out a few hundred thousand bills and gave them to Fakhru.

"Ru, me and sister Ana have a little sustenance. Please use this to help you and ustadz Hakim repair the damage in the surau yes. Hope it's useful."

Previously, Seroja and Ana had been surprised by the arrival of several building store employees who sent some building materials that are naturalized in surau near where he lived. It turned out that Fakhru and Hakim used their own personal money to fix the surau. From that day forward, Seroja and Ana collect the money they have to help with what the two men have done.

Fakhru received the money extended by Seroja. Indeed, the money he had with the money owned by Ustadz Hakim was enough for the repair of the surau, but he did not want to be a barrier for others to do charity. In the end he received the money given by Seroja. "Alhamdulillah. Thank you very much, Ja. May this be one of my charities for you and for Sister Ana."

"Aamiin ya rabbal alaamiin."

Seroja intends to take back his luggage that he previously placed on top of this paving block. But when his hand almost touched the plastic bags, Fakhru hurriedly prevented it.

"Let me carry this stuff, Ja."

"But Ru ....?"

Fakhru slithered while swinging his footsteps, until his position was a little far in front of Seroja. While Seroja who can only be made gawking with what was said by the young man. But in the end the smile came back on Seroja's lips. Yes, Fakhru is Fakhru. His old friend could always make him laugh.

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"Bu .. It's time for me to eat. Let's open his mouth!"

A middle-aged man with a thin white shirt and a sarong was seen holding a plate on which was neatly arranged a menu of rice, fried chicken, tempe garit and also vegetable soup. Next to his hand he used to hold a spoon, intending to feed a woman two years younger than him.

"Pak .. our child... "

The woman continued to link her gaze out the window with a glaring look. Her tears are non-stop flowing

"The patient mother. Our son will definitely return. The judge can find her."

"Call the Judge, sir! Call Judge! Ask him if he can find his sister? I really miss our daughter sir!"

The woman who had previously stared fixedly at the atmosphere outside the window with a look of laughter, now she shifted her sweep of eyes. He grabbed a pillow that was nearby, and he buried his face on it.

"My daughter ... Where are you son? Missed you!"

The woman was crying on the surface of the pillow. The woman's crying voice sounded bitter as if slicing the inner pain of the man who was nearby. Always like this. Twenty-seven years ago, the wife had always immersed herself in a wound that had no edges. A wound that only leaves the roaring chants that are heartbreaking.

The plate that was previously in his hand, he placed it on the nightstand. Then he approached the wife, he grabbed her body to take her into his arms. "The patient mother. God willing, God will soon meet us with our daughter."

"Mom misses him Sir ... I miss her."

There were also more tears that fell from the eyes of this man. His heart also rumbled and felt so claustrophobic when he remembered the princess who was taken away by someone he had not even had time to name. Gently he rubbed his wife's back, trying to calm her down.

"Mother also misses our daughter, Mom. However, you ask, Mother remains patient and do not be too late in this sadness. You don't want to if something happens that can make your psychic health like it used to be."

The hardest times have passed. When the wife experienced severe depression and made her soul shaken. After all these years, slowly everything returned to how it was. The wife's soul was already a little restrained. And that's what makes the man try desperately to keep the situation of the wife so as not to return like before.

"Our daughter Sir... "

"Istighfar Ma'am... Istighfar. Please ask God, that your heart may be calmer."

"Astaghfirullahal... "

The man is still faithfully rubbing the back of the wife while pecking her head. Transferring a sense of patience and trust in what has been outlined by Allah SWT.

Where did you take my daughter, Dahlia? And where exactly are you hiding? Twenty-seven years, I can't sniff out your hiding.

Ckitt.....

Brakk.... Arakkkk!!!!

The man's body was shocked for a moment when he heard the sound of a car brake and something that hit the ears. He got up from his seat and from behind the window saw a car hit a banyan tree on the side of the road.

"Innnallah .... "

"What's up, sir?"

"It looks like there's been an accident up ahead, ma'am. Look ahead for a moment, ma'am."

"Be careful sir... "

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