Morning greeted my campus. As usual, the sun remained bright, shining on the leaves and roof tiles of the building. I pulled aside the blue curtains that had been gently swaying in the breeze. It turned out the window was still locked. Then, I closed the minimalist window and unhooked it. The cool breeze that had long awaited my arrival from the mosque suddenly poured in, filling every space in my room. Fresh, refreshing, and cool. Like inhaling the cool fragrance of a spring morning on Mount Samoan, as it greeted my alma mater, the land of Rabbani al-Ikhlas Taliwang.
There was no public lecture after dawn at the mosque. Only a post-dawn prayer meeting (Sabah) on the mosque terrace was attended by students from various departments and faculties. Several students were also seen reciting and memorizing verses of the Quran. They faced each other. Occasionally, the students would close and open, then close and reopen the pocket Qurans in their hands. Likewise, their eyes would close, then open, and so on. They were lost in their own memorization.
Najib al-Lahm al-Falistiny, who shares my room. The Palestinian passport student has been here for several months. diaspora He came to Indonesia and chose my campus as his intellectual haven. Previously, he graduated from Egypt and Malaysia. Armed with a passion for learning, he returned to the academic world and continued his journey as a Master's student in Arabic.
What is exemplary about him is his strong spirit of seeking knowledge. Various stories and accounts adorn the diaspora of his persistence in seeking knowledge abroad. His family is gone. A dawn bombing has claimed the lives of those he loved most. His eyes well up as he recounts the horrific event. Perhaps one day, I will write a full-length account of his life.
Okay... Let's forget about Najib for a moment and focus on discussing a myriad of events. To be precise, it's Friday. The students at my campus are all on holiday. Only a break from the routine of lectures on weekdays. However, activities never stop. A series of extracurricular activities, sports, spiritual exercises, mental exercises, and emotional exercises await. Dense and certainly beneficial. No matter how busy the activities are, they will stop when the sound waves of the mosque's loudspeaker send a signal with the recitation of the holy verses of the Qur'an, chanted melodiously by students with the high profession of 'ta'mir masjid'. The chants can change the situation and campus life in an instant.
At 11 o'clock before Friday prayers, the sun's rays began to shine. The atmosphere on campus was quiet for a moment. One or two students started to move towards the mosque, including me. The distance between the mosque and the dormitory is approximately three hundred and fifty meters. I went to the mosque early. With the intention of getting a place in the first row.
Because the reward for the first shaff as narrated in a Bukhari hadith is as if sacrificing a camel. And want to imitate the spirit Said bin Musayyib He prayed in congregation for approximately 40 years and never looked at anyone's shoulders while praying in congregation for 30 years. Or Al Hafidz Ibn Asakir who has always been in the front row during congregational prayers for 40 years. Subhanallah. Hopefully we can imitate these friends in worship. Or at least we are close to their practices.
Long story short, the Friday congregational prayer was over. Thousands of students, lecturers, and campus employees poured out of the mosque. I walked back to the dormitory unhurriedly. The heat and sun forced me to cover my head with a prayer mat. The sandy path blistered from the heat. I saw the paving blocks steaming in the heat. "If only my sandals were wiped out, it would be my end," my heart whispered. An unexpected hope. However, the unexpected happened right before my eyes.
I was suddenly stunned to see a student walking barefoot toward the dormitory. He was trying to get ahead of me. He had the typical appearance of a santri student, wearing a black cap, a koko shirt, and a gray jacket. He was completely barefoot! "Could it be that his sandals are... ghost?"Wow. I just imagined it wouldn't happen to me, but instead, it happened to someone else. I briefly pondered fate. Anything can happen if God wills it. I was faced with my first lesson.
Something else beyond my expectations also happened. I didn't see an angry look on the student's face. His face was beaming as if nothing had happened. He laughed freely while embracing his friend beside him. I heard another student ask, "Did your sandal get stolen, Sul?" But he ignored it. He didn't respond to that trivial question. He just focused on talking while embracing his friend's shoulder and chatting comfortably. It was strange, I thought. The student should have been angry, or cursed at his friend. Or run away in a panic because he was embarrassed to be barefoot. But that didn't happen and he didn't do it. He showed patience and remained calm in the face of the problem that befell him. A second lesson for me. Perhaps the events of that Friday would have been different if they had happened elsewhere.
It will definitely be very different (said the Malaysian singer). Angry, his face turns red, his legs shake, or his hands clench into fists while muttering scathingly "Who ghosob (stole) my sandals? Watch out!! If you meet me, habook" Or in another expression "Insolent, how can you help me after praying? You thief!" While swearing the names of animals. Then go home and walk full of revenge. Usually, that is the conventional reality if sandals become victims of ghosob in mosques. Based on my experience and observations. And it's natural, that's human nature when faced with unwanted problems. Long wanted to make peace with his anger. It has become a common reality. For me this comes in as the third lesson.
After seeing the student's behavior, I smiled to myself. "There are Unida students like this!" I muttered, touched and amazed. The mysterious student continued to walk leisurely toward the dormitory, as if not feeling anything strange under his feet. The path to the dormitory was getting closer. The heat was getting hotter. I glanced back. But this time there was something different. I saw him start walking quickly, leaving his embraced friend behind. As time went by, his pace became faster, then he ran on tiptoe as he stepped on the steaming paving blocks.
In an instant, his shadow disappeared behind the dormitory wall. I smiled broadly again, my admiration for him growing. And I hoped his leg was okay. I quietly whispered, "Looks like my brother is getting tired." And I was sure his reward would be multiplied.
Hopefully there is a glimmer of wisdom that can be learned from this story.
UNIDA Gontor. The Fountain of Wisdom
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