“Thanks take care!” I got off Yeni’s motorcycle I rode in to the crossroads where I would get a bus to take me home. “Ok, so also you, Assalamu’alaikum.” Yeni rode away left me alone in the crowd of Pekanbaru noon. The weather became hotter. I thought it might be the effect of the global heating. The sun shines so brightly. In the distance, seemed there was a puddle of water on the road. I had to squint my eyes to dim the glaze light came into my eyes. It was rush hour. Dusts and exhaust fumes shorten my wind.
Immediately, I tried to find a place to take shelter while waiting for the bus. My throat felt dry. I bought a glass of jelly drink to reduce my thirst and hunger, fresh.
“Sat…sat…pusat…psat…” yelled the conductor. I step into the bus immediately, and got a seat near the window. I need wind on the way. Moreover, it would be unpleasant when the passengers become crowd. I need the fresh air.
Usually, I went to the campus by motorcycle but it was broken in the morning. Then I had to send it out for repairs and it could not be finished earlier for me to be used. “It doesn’t matter,” I comforted my self. The bus was still lonely. Actually, I don’t like to have trip without any friends. But, I tried enjoying the trip, looking trough the window, counting the rows of colourful shop houses along the way. I rearranged my sit position. Sebenarnya Cinta, the song of Letto band was played, my favourite song. It was enough to entertain me.
I really needed a rest, at least, before arriving home. A stack of tasks needed to be finished soon was imagined in my head. Moreover, two of them must be collected tomorrow. Huh…it’s my bad habit to postpone the works till pilled up and I’m trapped in time. I got the consequence.
My eyelids felt became heavy and heavier. I nearly fell asleep when the bus stopped. A women stepped in. she was a special women, akhwat, that was the usual name given to the type. However, the actual meaning is sisters, the plural form of ukht. Even, I am a woman but the name felt not suitable for me. I am a Moslem but in the other side different with her. My thinking and my style are far different. I am too perfunctory as a Moslem. Therefore, my friends sometimes called me akh-ga-wat.
She selected the seat beside me. Her sweet smile was so comfort while asking my permission to sit. Her wide light blue jilbab matched with long-loose dress seemed very suit for her. The points of her cuffs were seen under her sleeves. What a muslimah shalihah.
I continuously took a note of her. Sure, I admired her very much. Then, I was thinking and asking my self, “when will I become like her?” living in Islam perfectly. While, wearing a skirt sometimes become a burden for me. Though, recently, I had tried to leave my clothes that categorized as tights. But, sometimes, I still tempted to use them.
Awesomely, I extended my hand, introducing my self. Modestly, she grasped my hand and said her name,”Nisa”. A nice name reminded me a surah of Al-Qur’an, An-nisa’, that means women. The surah shows the avowal of Islam to the position of women. There is no surah Ar-rijal (men) in Al-Qur’an.
We were conversing chummily that made me feel so close with her. I was amazed by her graciousness. In my heart, I called her ukhti Nisa although I still called her kakak. However, I couldn’t talk too much because I felt exhausted and surrounded by my awe. I told my heart, “This is the most beautiful jewellery.”
“Sister…sister…, your expense please!” the conductor’s calling woke me up. I fell asleep. I saw there was no ukhti Nisa beside me. Probably, she had stepped out first. I wondered where she lives. I forgot to ask her address.
“Sister…, excuse me, your expense please!” the conductor came back asking the charge. I reached my bag to take my purse, but I found it was not there. “O Allah, where’s my bag?” I got panic.
I tried to find it under the seat, might be it fallen over there, but nothing. It made me more afraid. “Your charge sister!” impatiently, the conductor asked again. My tears could no longer be restrained, “I’m so sorry, my bag was lost.” “Are you sure?” I thought the conductor began to understand me. “Yes, my bag is white, any body sees?” I answered with sob. He looked under the seats. The passengers’ eyes stared me. “O Allah, my lecturing notes, the material books for my assignments, my purse, and my hand phone are there and lost.” I was only crying, did not know what to do.
“Excuse me, your bag is white decorated with blue flower isn’t it?” a girl beside were asking. “Yes, do you see?” “I’m not sure, but I saw the girl who sat beside you brought a bag like that.” I could not say anything. The sentence was like a thunder crashing the sky above me. Ukhti Nisa, I remembered that she brought nothing. Was that she?
“Sat…sat…pusat…psat…” yelled the conductor. I step into the bus immediately, and got a seat near the window. I need wind on the way. Moreover, it would be unpleasant when the passengers become crowd. I need the fresh air.
Usually, I went to the campus by motorcycle but it was broken in the morning. Then I had to send it out for repairs and it could not be finished earlier for me to be used. “It doesn’t matter,” I comforted my self. The bus was still lonely. Actually, I don’t like to have trip without any friends. But, I tried enjoying the trip, looking trough the window, counting the rows of colourful shop houses along the way. I rearranged my sit position. Sebenarnya Cinta, the song of Letto band was played, my favourite song. It was enough to entertain me.
I really needed a rest, at least, before arriving home. A stack of tasks needed to be finished soon was imagined in my head. Moreover, two of them must be collected tomorrow. Huh…it’s my bad habit to postpone the works till pilled up and I’m trapped in time. I got the consequence.
My eyelids felt became heavy and heavier. I nearly fell asleep when the bus stopped. A women stepped in. she was a special women, akhwat, that was the usual name given to the type. However, the actual meaning is sisters, the plural form of ukht. Even, I am a woman but the name felt not suitable for me. I am a Moslem but in the other side different with her. My thinking and my style are far different. I am too perfunctory as a Moslem. Therefore, my friends sometimes called me akh-ga-wat.
She selected the seat beside me. Her sweet smile was so comfort while asking my permission to sit. Her wide light blue jilbab matched with long-loose dress seemed very suit for her. The points of her cuffs were seen under her sleeves. What a muslimah shalihah.
I continuously took a note of her. Sure, I admired her very much. Then, I was thinking and asking my self, “when will I become like her?” living in Islam perfectly. While, wearing a skirt sometimes become a burden for me. Though, recently, I had tried to leave my clothes that categorized as tights. But, sometimes, I still tempted to use them.
Awesomely, I extended my hand, introducing my self. Modestly, she grasped my hand and said her name,”Nisa”. A nice name reminded me a surah of Al-Qur’an, An-nisa’, that means women. The surah shows the avowal of Islam to the position of women. There is no surah Ar-rijal (men) in Al-Qur’an.
We were conversing chummily that made me feel so close with her. I was amazed by her graciousness. In my heart, I called her ukhti Nisa although I still called her kakak. However, I couldn’t talk too much because I felt exhausted and surrounded by my awe. I told my heart, “This is the most beautiful jewellery.”
“Sister…sister…, your expense please!” the conductor’s calling woke me up. I fell asleep. I saw there was no ukhti Nisa beside me. Probably, she had stepped out first. I wondered where she lives. I forgot to ask her address.
“Sister…, excuse me, your expense please!” the conductor came back asking the charge. I reached my bag to take my purse, but I found it was not there. “O Allah, where’s my bag?” I got panic.
I tried to find it under the seat, might be it fallen over there, but nothing. It made me more afraid. “Your charge sister!” impatiently, the conductor asked again. My tears could no longer be restrained, “I’m so sorry, my bag was lost.” “Are you sure?” I thought the conductor began to understand me. “Yes, my bag is white, any body sees?” I answered with sob. He looked under the seats. The passengers’ eyes stared me. “O Allah, my lecturing notes, the material books for my assignments, my purse, and my hand phone are there and lost.” I was only crying, did not know what to do.
“Excuse me, your bag is white decorated with blue flower isn’t it?” a girl beside were asking. “Yes, do you see?” “I’m not sure, but I saw the girl who sat beside you brought a bag like that.” I could not say anything. The sentence was like a thunder crashing the sky above me. Ukhti Nisa, I remembered that she brought nothing. Was that she?
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