THE RELIGIOUS SHORT STORY GROUP
OLD MAN ON TOP OF THE NAVEL
“Aamiin Yes Robbal’aalamiin.”
I closed do’a after reading the sacred sentences in front of the grave of my mother's house, which is still decorated with red soil and several rows of small stones around it. There is no headstone that says his name there or slippery ceramic slabs like the tombs around. Not that I do not want to beautify ‘rumah’ his last rest, but there is no chance I have to do it.
One day God will help us to make it happen. That's my dream right now. Just like decorating the mother's grave with the accompaniment of do’a-do’a which is always spoken from this oral moment after my prostration rested on Him.
Kusapu views around the quiet burial area lined with weeds that began to grow up. Occasionally, there was a whirlwind greeting the verdant leaves. Produce a beautiful natural song with its seductive rhythm and seduce the trees to dance.
Not far from my existence at that time, there was a figure of a man who was crouching in front of a new tomb that was still covered with palm leaf. Samar-sama sounded a beautiful humming from his lips that were reciting the word of God. Occasionally he stopped his reading and bowed with his eyelids closed. Lirih sounded as she tried to resume iqra’nya.
At first I intended to leave the place immediately, but thought back there was no harm if the man I took and walked together to leave Astana Public Cemetery. It's nice so there's a friend chatting along the way.
“Assalamu’alaikum .. ” I approached his figure from the side. The man looked over, watching for a moment.
An old man was about sixty years old. Wearing a black peci and a dull looking cocoa shirt.
“Wa’alaikumsalaam,” replied the old man as he closed his little book and stood facing me, “ma'af, with whom, huh? Do I know you, Young Man?”
I smile.
“No! Looks like we haven't seen each other, sir! Coincidentally I saw the Father here after making a pilgrimage to my mother's grave there,” I showed the location of the grave with the thumb, the grave, “if you are done with the pilgrimage maybe we can go home together. Coincidentally my vehicle is parked not far from here.”
Now replace the old man who smiled while looking at me for a moment. Then he turned to look at the tomb in front of him.
“I still want to keep quiet here for a while, Young Man! Just treating the longing that is still felt since his departure,” said the old man closed and took a heavy breath.
“Macam wife Father?” I asked to try to trace his life story that seemed bitter and painful. I saw it from the look of his face that was not so cheerful. He tried repeatedly to smile between his black lips.
“Not! This is the grave of my daughter who died about a month ago,” he replied slowly.
“My wife is still—”
“There. She's at home.”
“Oh, ma’afon my question just now, Mr.”
“It's okay, Young Man! I understand, kok.” Again his smile was so bland I saw.
Actually I intended to leave there as soon as I thought that the old man would not fulfill my invitation. But the look in his sharp eyes when he looked at the heaps of the tomb soil, he was eager to share his story with me. Maybe about life issues or also about the departure of the child?
Sure enough my guess, not long after, the old man began to open his voice. Slowly and slowly.
“Sore it .. Fazriah, my daughter came home with her child while crying! He begged us to accept him overnight for a while,” the old man started the story.
* * * * *
“Where is your husband, son? Did you leave home and come here with your husband's knowledge and permission?” the old man asked as his son began to complain.
Fazriah was crying in his mother's arms.
“We had a big fight, Abah! He just left after we had a fight. I can't stand living with him anymore. He could not provide comfort to me as his wife,” replied Fazriah sobbing in the arms of his mother who also shed tears seeing the only daughter of his puppet.
“Means you left without your husband's permission, right?”
Fazriah nodded.
“Whatever problems you are facing, it is the problem and responsibility of both of you. Abah and Ambu no longer have power and authority in your life, son! You are the responsibility of your own husband, the world and the hereafter. We as parents can only advise that your life is always in the rules that God has set. No more.”
“I beg you, Abah. Let me stay here for a while until we calm down again,” said Fazriah memelas.
“That problem is not to be avoided but to be faced, son. Problems will never escape our lives because it is already the fitrah of the Almighty. It was as a test and a means to shape people in order to transform themselves into better people. That is why God has given us as human minds. Give the right to your mind. Your duty now is to seek a way out. The way by sticking to the teachings of religion and come the source is Allah Subhanahu Wata’ala.”
“It doesn't understand what I'm feeling right now.”
“Change understand, Son. Understand once.” The old man tried to give his understanding, “as our parents always welcome your arrival, My son. But now the responsibility of your life is entirely in the hands of your husband. Our daughter-in-law. The world and the hereafter. We can only give you advice. Not more. Your household matters are both your business. We have no right to interfere more deeply. Whatever the husband's attitude, he's still your husband. Father of your son. Which you must obey and always be loyal to be beside him no matter what happens.”
“Let him be with us for some time, sir. There's no harm, right? After all, he's our own son. This is nobody, right?” his wife gave him a voice.
“Bu, our son left his house without his knowledge and permission of her husband. It was a mistake and a great sin. By allowing our children to be here now, of course we have contributed to allow our children to make mistakes and sins that are far greater. We as parents will also sin! Until when?”
“But if her husband is responsible our son will not be like this, Mr.”
“We don't know the problem, Mom. Guilty or not, a wife cannot leave her home without her husband's permission. Especially to leave him. Whatever the reason, a wife has life rule limitations because all the keys are on her husband.”
“Then what now with our son, Sir?” ask his wife again.
“I will take her back to see her husband,” replied the old man in a firm voice.
Fazriah surprised, “Change!”
At that moment Fazriah was forced to return to her husband's house with his brother. Luckily there they met Fazriah's husband.
“Son, take good care of your wife and child, yes. We have made my son your companion. If he makes a mistake, please remind him and correct him. If you still want to live with him please treat our son well. As a husband needs to be required patience and proclamation. As a wife, there should be more tenderness. If we do not want it, we as parents will accept our children back happily,” that is the last sentence that the old man said before leaving them at his home. The last time he met his son was alive.
* * * * *
“I mean ... then the father's daughter died?” ask me on the sidelines of the old man's story.
“Iya, Son. The next day I received news that my daughter had passed away.”
“Died why, Sir?”
“Killed by her own husband.”
“Astaghfirullah …. ” I rubbed my own face.
How shiny.
“Then how does it go?”
“My daughter-in-law turned herself in to the police. He regretted having committed an error. He asked ma’af on us. And Alhamdulillah we have to’ and mengikhlaskan everything.”
“Just like that? Didn't take legal action to get him sentenced to the heaviest sentence, sir?” I felt like I heard the old man's story.
“Let it be God's business only. After all, he has given some of his current sentence through the law enforcement authorities of the world. The rest will be His authority in the Hereafter. Most importantly we have given up the departure of the late Fazriah. Our current obligation is to’ him to be placed among the servants of God who believe. That's it.”
“Mothers don't feel lost?”
“Of course, we feel very lost to our only daughter. But God's destiny has said something else. We can only accept it and surrender. And …. ”
“ ... and what, Sir?”
The old man smiled as he stared at the mound of grave earth in front of him, “Our daughter died in a state of ta’at the command of God, her parents and husband. She listened to our advice by not leaving her husband even at the risk of losing his life. If only she had died in our house in a state of sin, because she had left the house without her husband's permission, of course this would have been another.”
“Subhanallah.” I rubbed my face back.
Furious but also amazed by the old man's stubbornness.
“We have indeed lost our only child, but God has given a much better and beautiful substitute,” said the old man immediately made me curious.
“Who, Sir?”
The old man's eyes pointed to the figure of an old woman standing with a little girl, not far from where we were.
“They are my wife and grandchild,” said the old man with his smile that no longer looks bland anymore, “in my twilight now, God still gives the opportunity to care, to, to guard and educate His trust. In order to be a human being who always ta’at to Him. He is my grandson. At the age of him who is still so young he was able to start his life by becoming a hafidzah.”
“Mashaa Allah.”
The man's wife and granddaughter walked up to us.
“Who is this, Abah?” ask the beautiful girl while looking at me.
“Together a creature of God who has both lost his loved ones, Nak.”
I approached the girl, “What's her name, Dik?”
“My name is Siti Aisyah,” the answer is soft.
I meant to shake hands with the boy. She greeted him but did not touch her palm to shake my hand.
“Why, Sister? How, the shaman is that?” ask me wonder.
“Ma’af, Om this is not my mahrom. So I can't touch,” he replied without hesitation.
“Lho, it's okay, brother! Kan, this sister is not yet puberty so it will not be sinful to shake hands with the non-mahromnya,” I tease her a little.
“Ma’af, even so but I just want to get used to always ta’at on my religious teachings. As I have often taught so far.”
My face suddenly turned red. The old man and his wife smiled at their grandson's reply.
At the end of the meeting, they invited me to come to his house. It was not far from the cemetery. I am very interested in that family. Someday I will often be in touch with them.
Inshaa Allah.
S E L E S A I