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Islamic short story: love is not enough until death

 

Love Story in Islam

Love story in islam
Ilustration


Islamic short story: love is not enough until death

"I want us to have our own house, it's small, it's okay, the important thing is that there is a male voice reading the Koran, that voice is your voice," said Mother when her status was still dating with Father.


"Don't worry, I will build a three-story house for you," said Mr. seriously. "Really! Three floors, consisting of a bedroom floor, a bathroom floor, and a kitchen floor concurrently a dining room, living room, and multipurpose room. Three floors right? hahahahaha." continued you joking.


Sounds like a joke, but you know, since then you started saving money. Not saving money because you don't have an income, but saving bricks that will later be used to build your dream house, which according to your calculations will require around ten thousand. So you started cultivating a plot of land belonging to your parents. He hoeed the soil himself, even printed it himself, but not infrequently my grandfather also helped.


You never counted when the ten thousand was reached, just print and print. Moreover, mother, she has never seen what the bricks look like, are they sturdy? is it fragile? not precise?


What I saw was a man who was very amateur in bricklaying but very professional and skilled in love, in the same class as BJ Habibie's expertise in the field of airplanes, and Rudy Hartono's classmate in badminton.


Shortly after the ladies and gentlemen were married, the "three-story" house stood. Most of the materials were printed by your hands, other small imperfections were contributed by their respective parents. Now it's just a matter of filling it with the voice of a male reciter. And this is the big problem.


Your family background, in terms of religious education, is different from your mother's.

My grandfather from my mother was a graduate of the Tebuireng Islamic Boarding School. Apart from being a pawnshop employee, his daily activities are the imam of the mosque. Imagine how the religious atmosphere in the mother's family. Meanwhile, your parents are full-blooded farmers who are bathed in rice mud. Religion is just that. It's okay if you can't recite the Koran as long as you don't steal.


No wonder you can't recite the Koran. Prayer is similar to fasting Monday-Thursday, the distance between Asr prayer to Maghrib prayer can be two to three days. Mother has often reminded me gently to a little louder. But it seems that printing obedient people must be from an early age, it cannot be as fast and easy as printing bricks.


The climax is one night Mom finds Dad coming home with a mouth that smells of alcohol. You couldn't help it, but he admitted that he was forced to drink by his boss at work. Mother gave up. Mother returned to her parents' house even though Father really said that he loved Mother very much.


"To build this house maybe enough with my love capital. But it is impossible to build a sakinah household if you don't love Allah and His Messenger," said my mother firmly.


You often hear about the threat of hell-fire punishment for those who leave prayer. But for you, your mother's departure is a hell that will come quickly, not in the hereafter but on the first day the house is empty without you.


It didn't take long for Father to follow Mother to her parents' house. But at that time Mother locked herself in the room. You can't help it, you can only talk from behind the door.


"Come on, go home. The house would have been hell without you. If you still love me, come home. Save me."


There was no response from behind the door, Mr. spoke louder. “I want to pray and learn the Koran, but you have to teach yourself. I'm old, I don't know where to learn the Koran. In the village there are only Koran teachers for children. I'm embarrassed. Please. I hope you understand my situation."


The door creaked, Mom came out with a puffy face. Father welcomed him by handing him a book to learn the Koran. "Look, I've bought Iqro," said Mr. with a gleaming face like before when he said he wanted to make his own bricks. For Mother it was enough.


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