Last Pack Rice For Nabila
Don't Lower the Rain from the Sky, Just Water My Eyes Fall
The wind is blowing strong. The clouds appear dark without moonlight, and it looks like soon it will rain. Raga sped up the pace for him and Nabila to arrive under the bridge before the sky water soaked the earth.
"His hand is not to be out, Deck, hide it in a sheath" Raga ordered.
Before catching up with Nabila to the clinic, actually Raga had brought a change of clothes; worn out Koko and one sheath that was torn off. He thought his sister could be taken care of until tomorrow, so he and his sister went straight to the mosque without going back to the bridge. But the wishful thinking vanished, after the nurse threw him out without compassion.
On the back of her brother Nabila is not visible at all, from the tip of the foot to the head covered with a sarong belonging to her brother. The dress shirt is held tightly in a deck. Every now and then the little girl grimaced, enduring the cold and pain.
As soon as he arrived at the location near the bridge, Raga was fixated with a pushy gaze. Damn, the dam's water is rising which means he and his sister tonight can't sleep under the bridge.
How shiny. Disappointment and sadness that has repeatedly made Raga no longer complain. No matter how he complains, things will not change; it is only in vain. In the end, he could only move.
Raga sat on a fallen tree, which she used to sit on. He lowered his sister carefully. A little relieved because Nabila's sleep is not disturbed. He switched to clenching in front of his body and still enveloped until his sister's thin body was impenetrable coldly.
The longer the wind gets out of control. There will be another rainstorm. The teeth are grinding against the cold. She was wearing only a thin T-shirt and knee-length pants, both sarongs and cocoa clothes were worn for her sister.
Raga looked up at the sky. "Don't drop water from the sky, enough tears are falling. Have mercy, I am so tired. My feet can't walk anymore." I don't know who he's complaining to, if God hears, may grant his request. His mind was fixed on a small market, but he already did not have the energy to bring Nabila there.
His body was completely exhausted, but was forced strong by the circumstances. He never had enough sleep. Can not be described anymore thin body that like the time, pain all over the body. Moreover, the two legs that every day have to walk along the road two kilo meters more barefoot. The soles of the feet have been very sore because of the many wounds.
Raga breathed a tired sigh. Although the situation was not supportive, but both eyes closed. Maybe he was tired.
Three hours later. Until the raindrop touched her skin, Raga just opened her eyes. Luckily Nabila fell asleep in her arms, so she wasn't so worried.
"Sir, awake!" The sky was still dark, but Raga had already awakened her sister. "Dec, want to pray ied in the Mosque, no. If we come last, we don't go to the saf." Whispering quietly near Nabila's ears.
"Yes, Brother, if you want to pray." Nabila's hoarse voice.
"You wait here for a second, yeah, big brother wants to clean up first." Raga lowered Nabila beside the pile of wood. He pulled a long plastic used as a wooden cover, now partially used to cover his sister's body so that the rain spots do not penetrate Nabila's skin.
Raga forced herself under the bridge to pick up sandals and bags of clothing. The used sandals he had picked up from the trash can, were repaired and stored. Deliberately kept for use today.
Not good, the color is different even the size is different. He found the sandals were not one pair. But it doesn't matter! He needs footwear not to be stylish, but to keep the soles of the feet clean until the mosque later. Nabila's own is not much different from him.
After cleaning herself with the dam water, Raga wore cocoa and a sarong used to cover her sister's body. "I'm sorry you took it." He replaced it with some clothes that were piled on Nabila's body.
"You don't have to shower, yeah, Deck. Wash your face, hands and feet. It's cold, I'm afraid you're fever again."
"But Brother, the prayer must be clean. When you take a shower."
"It's cold, are you strong?"
"Strong, Brother."
Raga helped Nabila to clean up. After that Nabila seemed enthusiastic about wearing a new robe and veil.
"Sister, if it's pretty, isn't it? Don't wear this shirt?"
"You're the prettiest, Deck. Pantes, pantes really wear this shirt. In the mosque later, it must be the most beautiful sister." Raga was very happy to see her sister's pleasure.
"Hore-hours ... When the most beautiful. Duh." Nabila cheered, but afterwards complained.
"No pa-pa, brother."
"Why? Is anyone sick?" Raga was getting worried.
"No, Brother, if not pa-pa. If you want to leave now."
"If there's anything, tell Brother."
"Yes." Yeah."
After they prepare. Nabila went back up on Raga's back and they headed for the At-Taqwa Mosque. The largest mosque in the area where he lived. On the road they followed the flow of takbiran who continued to reverberate.
"Our first leaflet was without Amak and Mr, yes, Dek" Raga said.
"Yes. If tomorrow If follow Amak and Bapak, then Lebaran next Brother Lebaran himself."
Raga's steps stopped. "Don't talk recklessly, Dek! Not good. The next leafan we stick together."
"Sorry, Brother."
"Don't talk like that anymore."
"Yes." Yeah."
About two kilo meters of travel, Raga smiled to see the mosque building in front of him. Not many came because they got to the beginning.
"We're leaving fast, we're gonna get a saf ahead, Dek."
"Yes, Brother. But who's sitting, brother?"
Raga grimaced sadly hearing her sister's question. There used to be Amak who took care of Nabila. But now?
You sit with other mothers. The important thing is to just shut up and find a place on the side so it's good to go out." Raga gave the message.
"Em." Nabila.
Inside the Mosque.
The saf line should not distinguish between the old and the young, between the rich and the poor, between someone who wears nice or shabby clothes. Who comes in at the beginning, he's the one who gets the saf line up ahead. But ....
"Hey, young man, back off! Older people have to be in front," said someone, making Raga forced to retreat on the second saf.
Shortly after, someone beside Raga who was in the second saf again reprimanded. "Em, you don't wear perfume, do you? Sana, just move to the back! Do not make the prayer."
Her lips tightly clenched with sadness, Raga was forced to move again to the rear saf.
"Eh, why sit here. This is the place I have designed for my son. Sana moved in the back."