I woke up in an instant. My bedroom scenery–with the light still on–came into my view.
My first thought: What time is it now?
I quickly searched for my smartphone or my watch. I found my smartphone first. It’s 3:54 a.m.
Yes! No overslept again! I can eat sahur!
But I didn’t prepare any meal that night before.
Then, a warung of fried rice pop up to my mind. I can eat there. Yes, some fried rice is quite good for this time around.
So I quickly dress up, then grab my smartphone and a sheet of 20.000 rupiahs from my wallet and stormed into the coldness of the dawn outside.
It was about half of an hour again before adzan subuh. I paced myself to the warung and order my food, rice with beef. What a hedonist. I patted myself for working hard at P3RI. Yes, this is only for now, I thought.
The warung keeper, mbak warung, was doing her job. I searched the money in my pocket–my training’s pocket and my jacket’s pocket. But my hand went cold.
Mohammad Hoesni Thamrin, a Volksraad, our national hero.
It was nowhere to be found.
I was a bit panicked but I kept my calm. Let’s look at the ground.
Nowhere.
I told mbak warung that I lost my money and I’ll be back in a minute. I went into the street I just walked through.
Nowhere.
I didn’t wear my glasses, but I can tell if I differentiate money to a random piece of paper even in this hour.
I stopped at the front of my kosan building.
Still nowhere.
Phew. Maybe it slipped from my hand and I didn’t even bring it.
But still nowhere.
So that’s it. It probably fell when I rushed on the street and then someone picked it.
I took another money from my wallet, staring at the content sadly, then get back into the warung again.
“Udah ketemu uangnya, Neng?”
“Mm.. enggak, Bu,” I replied with a low voice.
Mbak warung looked at me while taking out my meal. “Inalillahi, anggap saja ini musibah ya, Neng.” She patted my back lightly.
Deg.
Astagfirullah al adzim.
I forget. How can I forget HIM?
I woke up early and didn’t even thank Him.
I lost my thing and didn’t even remember Him.
I tried looking for something but didn’t ask His help.
How can I?
My mind went blank. I took my meal and paid the price, said thanks to mbak warung then left. Yes, I paid the price. This is the price when you forget Him even just a moment.
Yes, I paid the price. This is the price when you forget Him even just a moment.
I seek His forgiveness as much as I can as I moved my feet. On the way, I found a little guy laid at the front of a shop–trampled, dirty. A 2000 rupiah piece.
I didn’t give it too much thought as I grab the piece. I said to myself: This is the gift when you remember Him even just a moment.
I washed the little guy with plain water to get off the dirt. Snap a photo of it. And then eat.
That dawn, I learned a lesson.
7th of Ramadhan 1439 H