Sometimes I want to go out of orbit. Move away looking for the silence in the mind. There is no month. Also a star. The rain just passed. There in the garden, there was a lamp which I always stared at from behind the window every night.
Some say a friend is like antique glass, if not properly guarded it will break or maybe lost. And you will be very sorry for letting that happen.
In a book, I found a story of the beauty of friendship... The story of the Prophet Musa AS. The definition of a friend for Musa was Aaron. What he asked Allah to complement the journey of his life was delivering the Prophetic Treatise. "And my brother Aaron," he asked, "make him a companion who strengthens me". So when Allah granted his request, they then 'made love' to complete the task, lead the difficult people to organize and defeat the mighty Pharaoh.
Harun for Musa is the closure of weakness in self, enforcer when falling, and companion when alone. That is why the existence of Harun then became an important necessity so that it had to be asked for in the prayer of Moses. Well, in prayer...
* * *
He, my friend who is the most ignorant I can say but is diligent in studying. Have his own world, his own way, and his own style. The world, ways, styles that are sometimes strange and unusual. Once upon a time, when he was still on campus, he almost irritated me because of his actions, for fear of being caught cheating on an exam. He, secretly taking the exam courses I took on my behalf when I was drifting off to a relationship that was difficult to leave. While I was fast asleep because I could not resist the crazy effects of drugs. And his actions saved me from repeating an Error Value. And all I know is that it didn't just happen to me. Even his boarding house friends were indebted to him because of his different pranks.
Until on our next trip I disappeared from campus. Missing from our rush rotation towards the bachelor.
In late 2003, when I was able to escape the destructive addiction again, I saw him again. He continues to work in the construction world. There are several moments that make us feel like a reunion at the project site. Several times he also came home, borrowed some literature, just had coffee, discussed some of his interesting and difficult jobs. Or just laughing at the 'broken' 'system' which is currently happening lately in my country.
At other times, sometimes he is a place to complain that I feel uncomfortable with the world of work that erodes idealism. A little place to support yourself being carried by the wind or even a tsunami feeling bored with all the routines.
But he instead gave me a job where he worked and made me a normal human being who could work for myself and my own family. It got to the point where I was trusted by the company to hold an ongoing project.
* * *
2016 ago, I came to his house. I said goodbye and returned the books I had borrowed. Asking why I have to go. Give some advice, and try to keep me from staying and not stepping away. In a few words, he said he was going to lose the antique glass again. Hopefully, only your form will go away, while space for sharing your spirit and support is not.
Always remember to come back, friends. Come again sometime .. A friend's house, also a house to come back to right? And like Moses who summarized Aaron in his prayer, there is also a prayer for you .. Hopefully, what you are looking for, success !!
A deep message and it looks like he's the antique glass for me that I left behind. Even though as a friend he is not born in the same womb, he accepts the loss of boundaries for the word brother.
5 years have passed through a long journey where my feet stepped from city to city. The last time he spread the news through my parents. Asking about my situation with my father. My father conveyed, several messages from him. Always take care of yourself and never forget to come back, this is where my house is your house too.
My antique Glass, you're getting older now but your heart remains the same. Your hair is turning white but your smile is still blooming. In the midst of the storm, you are like a fortress for me to guard. Time to go home I will definitely step to meet you. Remembering only you who stood beside me when in front of my mother's grave accompanied when everyone returned home.
There is nothing I forget, I will always remember and joke back to how many times we were in college. Gather to tell stories, through what we have been through so far.
