“We can’t do that, Sar. We can’t. Marry Joko. Someday you’ll learn to love him. I’m already happy seeing you happy.”
The couple continued talking for a while.
Suddenly, clouds surrounded the moon. Its light turned gloomy. Just like the hearts of the two village teenagers. Fajar gently stroked his lover’s shoulder. But the girl still sobbed. Then Sari walked away, carrying her sobs. There were no waving hands, only the sound of crying. Yes, the girl continued to cry as she walked away, carrying the sadness of losing her love.
***
The evening song echoed from the sound system, filling the corners of the small village. It was the song of Puspitasari’s wedding to Joko. The celebration was lively. But in another corner, Fajar felt the song was like a dagger piercing his heart. The heartbroken young man was making a bonfire to cook sweet potatoes with his younger brother.
“Did Mas Fajar not come to Mbak Sari’s wedding?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Fajar stayed silent, leaving his younger brother without an answer. The melody of the song suddenly stopped, replaced by the beat of the drums, followed by the echoing call to prayer from the nearby mosques. The time for Maghrib prayer had arrived. From the mosque near their home, they could hear their father’s voice reciting praises, awaiting the congregation.
“Hearts are restless for five reasons,
First, reading the Qur’an with longing,
Second, righteous people gathering together,
Third, performing the night prayer,
Fourth, gathering in the middle of the night,
Fifth, engaging in sweet remembrance at night.
Whichever one of these someone does,
God willing, the Lord will accept.”
Fajar went to the water fountain to perform ablution, his younger brother following suit. Then the two brothers walked away from the bonfire that was cooking sweet potatoes. They left behind the fire that also burned the young man’s heart. Their steps led them to the mosque. Fajar walked, guiding his brother who was struggling with his sarong while carrying a lantern.