Choosing a place to live in front of a village mosque makes me often find the scenery that makes the heart cool. Yesterday afternoon a father selling toys around the children took a pause after dropping by Salat Zuhur. He fanned his swollen body in the heat of the day. Half day that he finished hangkal in a wedding celebration. Not bad, some plastic balloons were sold. He then prepared to find another place of celebration after I offer to fill his drink bottle with water.
On a cloudy afternoon, a couple of young men park their bikes in front of the mosque. There are two large baskets on the right and left sides of the motor, crammed with seeds of plants. The two teenagers knocked on the doors of the house with a large album book containing pictures of plants.
“The red long … the guava deli … 50 thousand each, Mother-Mother.”
They are from Madiun and have been traveling for almost a week in the direction of Solo, and have spent two days staying at the gas station mosques in Yogyakarta. The village is close to Mount Merapi. There are many gardens on the edge to Merapi. The seeds of the plants they carry are small, leafy with the leaves looking sick. Moreover, the price is more expensive.
Now, every time I look at the seedlings of potted plants that are much fatter with leafy leaves, I remember two teenagers with a vibrant work ethic shelter in the mosque, accompanied by a group of neighboring mothers who invited to chat anything.
The delightful mosque hosts guests like home. At a small musala on Prambanan-Piyungan Street, I stopped by. After Salat Magrib, a father came to me with a greeting. He then asked where and where to go. I just realized, such small musala is usually used to congregate the surrounding residents, so that one or two foreign faces means people who come from outside the village.
That night I went to the book event Tikuse Pada Ngidung by Mohammad Sobary. When I mentioned the address lived around Pondok Pesantren Pandanaran, he then told me that initially his last child will also send nyantri to Pandanaran, before finally steady choose Ponpes Darul Quran Wonosari.
When I answered I was going to Ponpes Kaliopak, he was a little confused, admitted never heard. I try to explain that Ponpes Kaliopak is just a kind of encounter space for cultural reviewers. Towards the end of the conversation, he asked for prayers for his children who are still nyantri in As Salam Solo also in Ponpes Wonosari given ease in absorbing knowledge and smooth study. I replied amen, and rewarded with the prayer of travel safety for me.
This may be an ordinary fragment but somehow presenting such trivial matters becomes more relevant in the present times. Two people who talk to each other, in the past before all the forms of communication technology present are clues that open up all sorts of possibilities. Two aliens on the street sometimes do not even remember to ask each other names. But the conversation between these two aliens is one of the many social supports that build up the spirits of living together.
Discussion that is not bound by formal institutional norms that measure everything by numbers or the value of power that measures everything with a degree or a badge. Two alien human beings meet as quite fellow human beings. The human, or the pleasant Muslim, is in a sense of mutual trust and desire for the good of one another.
The mosque is two kinds / One spirit, the other one / One on the ground stand / Others reside in the heart / Can not disappear one of them / If the spirit is oppressed, the mosque is only stone / If the body is not established, the mosque is only ghost / Each to God can not visit.
As soon as Emha Ainun Nadjib wrote the poem of One Thousand Mosques. The amount of that one is certainly the spirit of compassion. Man stepped into the mosque representing a servitude work. Human beings are aware of God everywhere, even closer than the veins, but humans still try to be present in the mosque with the cleanest clothes and conscientious heart as if only in the place of prostration the Lord met them and entertained more specifically.
Today’s political mission is too disgusting. But, there are many people still want to politics in the mosque. They feel the most knowledge of God, understand the teachings of the Messenger, and fight for religion. But, all the pulpit of political oration is an arsenal of lies. Worse, the form of godliness with lips sprinkled with sheep received a pulpit in the mosque. Dressed in white with a white headscarf, but he never realized that the desire of his mouth is guided by lust. Either lust feels the righteous or the lust beat other classes, but the shouts often also close the mind to convey an information with reasonable.The mosque then became frozen floors. The wall was mournfully plastered with threatening bulletins. The pelantangnya wanted to praise the greatness of God and the glorious morality of Muhammad, but shackled by the hate cry of other groups for the petty desires that have nothing to do with God.
The mosque still did not rebel. But he missed the humans who rushed to come just to kneel on the floor. There is an innocent old man whose soul is roomy to give comfort to strangers. The mosque wants to be a home where lovers who are really lovers are looking for a way home.
Kalis Mardiasih writes opinions and translates. Active as a researcher and creative media team of Gusdurian National Network in delivering the message of tolerance and campaign #IndonesiaRumahBersama. Can be addressed via @mardiasih