Way Home
000. good-bye

Introduction Author

Like my friendly whispers to some kind friends in Jogja, that this novel is thick in the nuances of Sufism, so I whisper so to your friends. What can be done, because sahibulhikayatnya is indeed a Sufism teacher. Be some friends, who wander the last chapter of this story, confused. What the hell is that? Bathe science? Fortunately, two of my friends who are closer to God, can answer through quotations of definitions listed in their draft paper. That Sufism is the consciousness of the singular reality. Well, that's, at the limit of words. Qul huwallahu ahad, said al-Qur’an. Innaa lillaahi wa innaa ilaihi raaji’uun, keep can. There is no intention higher than taqarrub ilallah in the writing of this story. If there is anything that may be conveyed quite sharply, it is merely an adaptation to the style of the novel that claimed “bumpur” to the rhythm of the ripples of the art of life. Not the novel name if rhythmically “ular swallow linggis”, right? However, let me apologize in advance if it is considered that there are two such fractures in these doodles.

So, in Your sight, Assun is not able to blaspheme. Shalawat and greetings to Kanjeng Nabi Muhammad Saw., the companions, the aulia, and Shaykhuna Subakir . Thank you to all believers and believers.

To Noveltoon, I thank you very much. And so is the honorable reader. Through you, God willing these doodles can become more meaningful. I am open to criticism, suggestions and comments. All back to Him. He's the one who scratched the pen. Amens....

This novel is a message from Bang Hazri Tiger to me to write and publish. Bang Hazri said, “Like coffee that will find its own audience, as well as this novel you wrote.” The main character in this novel is someone who is important in changing the life of Bang Hazri.

Bang Hazri also sends warm greetings to all readers. “Because life has only two stories, where we come from and where we go home. Come find what and go home bring what.”

Jombang December, 2022

***

A bright Sunday morning. The sun does not seem to be emitting the eternal light that has been promised until the end of time. Millions of dew remained, swinging twinkling at the buds of the foliage. Then, some of it floated off, until it broke in the expanse of land in resignation. Eleven tiny greenish-yellow birds joking cheerfully in a clump of Japanese bamboo. His chatter is sinless, contributing a tone to the humming of nature. Across there, the grains of rice began to crackle, waddle flirtatious diced bayu. The sky is blue, white clouds are chasing. Near the door, Akas was busy looking for shoes.

“Bungsu, come! Later late,” said Haryati, his mother.

“Shortly, Mom, my shoes are gone one” said Akas from behind the door.

Haryati smiled, then pretended to glare at Haryono, her grumpy eldest son. Rani, Sulis, and Wati, her three daughters laugh funny. Everyone knew that elder brother was tagging their youngest brother.

“Iya, Mom, hehehe.... Cash, here, your shoes are here!” exclaim the firstborn.

I'm nongol from behind the door. His face was ruffled, and immediately hunted down the older brother who was brandishing next to his shoes. Give them a storm because Haryono is marking his sister again. Shoes are not immediately given, confused first here and there. Then, Buk! The youngest poke the firstborn's stomach. Then the brother died down his prank while grimacing rubbing the stomach.

“Already, already,” said Haryati, seeing the symptoms of the youngest and the eldest want to continue playing boxing. “Already, let's go. Later to be late until the church, not good with Father Jo.”

“Back home we keep going!” Akas challenged his brother.

“Bby, hehehe. ..,” Haryono chuckles.

Haryati mesem head bobble. His three daughters also shook their heads while grimacing. They are confused to see the behavior of boys whose innate likes to hit. Doesn't it hurt, anyway?

“Mas, we leave, yes,” Haryati said to Hanafi, her husband.

The husband who was pruning the house fence plants smiled nodding, “Be careful,” he said slowly.

Haryati smiled back, then salim to her dear husband. The children took turns kissing hands to their Muslim father. Especially for the youngest, the father invites boxing for a while. Akas chuckled cheerfully. Glad to be able to practice for “civil war” after coming from church later.

“Already, already, come on. Mas Nafi this you know, even ngajarin,” Haryati protest.

Hanafi laughed softly. “Ya already, leaving there,” he said to the youngest.

“Later to train added yes, Sir?” pinta Akas's. Hanafi laughed, the others too. Then, the group went to the church in downtown Sedayu. The father let out a long sigh while staring at the back of his wife and five children. Fate has outlined that he and Haryati, beautiful women surnamed AMeng, ensnare each other in love. While sitting down to rest, slowly his memories flew to the past....