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This afternoon the sky is overcast, the sun has been hiding behind the black cloud. Even so, the rain did not come down to water the earth. The breeze was blowing, the coolness felt. Wiping the tired faces of the book-surgery committee who, for a few weeks, took care of everything for this event to run.
Now the faces looked cheerful again, greeting the book's attendees, who were pouring in. With a smile expanding. And greeting was spoken.
"Ukhti Fiya, please get the certificate of participant of the disciples who brought Akhi Firman!" Pinta Mbak Fitri to me. I nodded, then started walking to find where Akhi Firman was now.
"Hafidz, do you see the word of the Word?" I asked as I watched Hafidz pass by. He held a bundle of raffia ropes.
"Mas Word? He's on the re-register table with Akhi Rosyid. "
"Wow ..." I hissed.
"What's the matter?" Hafidz asked my response.
"A ... can ask for help, ask for certificates of participants to him, yes ... I'm not possible to the re-register table ikhwan ..." I said while begging.
"Waduh, Afwan jiddan Ukh, here I am again in waiting Ustadz Muhsin, want to benerin hijab at the north door."
"But ... ah yes never mind ... Jazakalloh khoir, let me go there myself ..."
"Well let me see Ustadz Muhsin first, Afwan before." Hafidz went. I just nodded answering Hafidz's farewell. Well ... how else, I have to go there myself. Hurry up my legs to the re-list table of the ikhwan before the participants who come more and more, and eventually it will be difficult for me myself.
Arriving at the entrance of the ikhwan area, suddenly my step stopped, my chest seemed to rumble, turbulent so great, my body feels hot cold, my hands and feet tremble, I have not felt this feeling for a long time, now, after 6 years passed, this feeling I feel again.
I sharpened my eyes staring at the stern figure who is now talking with Akhi Firman, and that's also the moment I decided, I undo my intention to take certificate of participant akhwat to Akhi Firman, I will replace this task to others. I never thought I would meet a man who had rummaged through my feelings now talking with Akhi Firman.
Unknowingly, a name came out from my lips. "Hawari ..."
Either the devil from which to persuade me, until I dare write a letter of love to my sister's class. Really, I do not know myself, with my full consciousness writing a letter expressing my love for my younger sister, Hawari. Whereas I used to really hate him. Probably true Javanese proverb that states "Gething nyanding" and "Roso tresno sokok soko kulino", and maybe then I was exposed to the karma.
My first encounter with him, while I was attending an arabic language speech between classes at my school.
One day as I was sitting waiting for my turn to be called, a boy of my classroom approached me, he asked me.
"His name is Mbak?"
"Aufiya 'why?" While continuing to focus on repeating the text of the speech I answered the question.
"O ... so this is tho whose name is Mbak Aufiya, eh Ma'am who always wins the Arabic speech contest, wuih ... wah, I want to see fit later Mbak Aufiya fit ..." he said with a grin. Of course the response made me frown.
"Eh, I always have to ..." I said. He grinned again. Not long after my turn arrived, as usual, with full confidence, word for word slid out of my lips, with passionate spirit, I tell the verses of Allah, occasionally my eyes catch the younger brother of my class looked at me in awe, ah ... actually really, I am very uncomfortable if there are people who are very impressed with my achievement, I feel very uncomfortable if there are people who cheer me,
Nice photography love