in the surau

8/19/2019 In the Surau

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·S··· ·U ~ -N THE

seven slamic hort Stories- fmm IDdoD.esia

Edited by

Soenjono Dardjowidjojo and

Florence Lamoureux

Southeast Asia Paper No. 21

Center for Southeast Asian Studies

School of Hawaiian, Asian, and Pacific Studies

University of Hawaii a t Manoa

1983


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Copyright Southeast Asian Studies . 1983

Published by the Southeast Asian Studies ProgramCenter for Asian and Paci f ic Studies

Universi ty of Hawaii t ManoaHonolulu. Hawaii

All Rights Reserved.


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TABLE OF CONTENTS

In t roduc t ion

BECOMING A SANTRI by Djamil SuhermanTrans la ted by Steve Walker 1

THE LEGACY, by A. D. DonggoTrans la ted by Florence Lamoureux 7

A TREE FOR ALLAH, by Kuntowidjojo Translated by Joan Suyenaga 15

A NEST IN A TREE, by Kuntowidjojo Trans la ted by Joan Suyenaga 25

HER, by T i t i s Basino Translated by Florence Lamoureux 37

THE GRAVE, by S. N. RatmanaTrans la ted by Alberta J Freidus 43

THE COLLAPSE OF OUR SURAU by A. A. Navis Trans la ted by Dardjowidjojo 49

Glossary 57


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In t roduc t ion

Although Indonesia as a l ega l s t a t e i s not governed underIs lamic law, the ways of l i f e of i t s people, who are predominantlyMoslem, quite often r e f l e c t Is lamic teaching and t r ad i t i on . Manyof the pat te rns of normal dai ly l i f e as well as t r ad i t i ona l ce remonies and r i t e s are determined, or a t l ea s t guided, by Is lamicpr inc ip les . This i s t rue not only among santr is , who f a i t h f u l l yfollow Islamic teachings, but a l so among abangans Moslems simplyby v i r t ue of b i r th .

The seven shor t s t o r i e s presented in t h i s volume are f i c t i o n a lrenderings of some of these pa t t e rn s . They were selected not somuch on the bas is of t he i r l i t e r a r y meri t as for the ins ights theyprovide to the Western reader. At a time when Islam as se r t s i t sro l e more s ign i f i can t ly in world p o l i t i c s economics, and cu l tu ra lawareness, we bel ieve i t i s appropr ia te to present these shor ts to r i e s as vehic les tha t may c l a r i f y ce r t a in concepts , views, andoutlooks tha t under l ie the behavior of many Moslems.

Becoming a Santri,ll the f i r s t s tory in the col lec t ion , waswri t ten by Djamil Suherman, born 24 Apri l 1924 near Surabaya. Many

of his s to r i e s depict Moslem l i f e and may be reminiscences of hischildhood. Before enter ing and graduat ing from the Academy of PublicAdministration in 1964, Suherman worked as a teacher of Islam in anelementary school. He subsequent ly entered the mi l i t a ry and hasmost recently been working in the Pos ta l Service. IlBecoming aSantri i s the s tory of a young chi ld who f a i t h f u l l y and d i l i gen t lyfol lows a step-by-step procedure to become a t rue Moslem.

The second s tory. liThe Legacy, i s s imi l a r to the f i r s t i n tha ti t describes the process of Is lamiza t ion . ,. In t h i s case. however,the end r e su l t d i ff e r s s ign i f i can t ly. Despite his a b i l i t y to swallowa huge banana glazed with uncooked r i ce , thereby predict ing h i sfu ture success as an Is lamic scholar, the young man in The Legacy

f inds his l i f e turning out qui te d i ff e r en t ly. Unfortunately, weare unable to give any biographica l information on the author. A. D.Donggo.

The th i rd and four th s t o r i e s in the col lec t ion were both wri t tenby Kuntowidjojo, a graduate of Gadjah Mada Universi ty who holds aPh.D. from an American univers i ty. He was born in Yogyakarta on 18September 1941 and began wri t ing s t o r i e s while s t i l l in high school .In A Tree for Allah he t e l l s the s tory of a poor old lIIan who t r i e sto repay Allah for His g i f t s by donating a huge t r e e t runk to thev i l l age r s who are bui lding a neighborhood mosque. a surau. Although


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his plans are thwarted and the t ree trunk l o s t , he cher i shes the hopetha t the vanished log has in fac t found i t s way to Allah.

Kuntowidjojo's A Nest in a Tree t e l l s of a Moslem schola r, anuZama

who could not ge t to h i ssurau

in time to lead the Fridayprayer on account of a chi ld who was crying over a smal l bi rd in at ree . The debate over r e l i g ious Obligat ions versus economic respons i b i l i t i e s tha t goes on in the scho la r ' s mind as he passes thevendors in the market r e f l e c t s a r a the r common phenomenon amongce r t a in members of the Moslem community.

The f i f t h story, Her, was wr i t t en by Ti t i s Basino, of whomwe know only tha t he f inished his undergraduate educat ion a t theUniversi ty of Indonesia before 1964. The s tory describes thefeel ings and emotions of a woman who must share her husband withanother woman in the t r ad i t i ona l Is lamic prac t ice of polygamy. IIera b i l i t y to cope with t h i s may be incomprehensible to Western readers ,

but the s to ry revea l s how she a r r ives a t an emotional acceptanceof the s i tua t ion .

The Grave, the s ix th s to ry, was wri t ten by R. N. Ratmana, whowas born on 6 March 1936 in Cirebon, West Java, but grew up inPekalongan in Central Java. He graduated from the Academy of Physicsin Semarang and has been a high school teacher since 1961. TheGrave i l l u s t r a t e s di ffe r ing a t t i t u d e s toward the dead and how thosea t t i t udes divide a family i n to warring camps. The con f l i c t a r i s e sfrom one s ide ' s tenacious ins i s tence on t r ad i t i on as i t i s prac t icedby t rue Moslems, and the other s i d e s obsession with a prac t icerooted in non-Islamic custom. The wall ing of a grave i s not permit tedunder s t r i c t Is lamic law but i s very of ten done by those who arel e s s r i g id in the i n t e rp re t a t i on of re l ig ious r u l e s .

The l a s t s tory, The Collapse of Our Surau, was wri t ten by AliAkbar Navis, born in Padang, West Sumatra on 17 November 1924. Hereceived his education a t the Indonesisch Nederlandsche School duringthe co lon ia l period and i s now serving as a member of parliament inWest Sumutra. The s tory in t h i s co l l ec t i on i l l u s t r a t e s a ra thercommon misconception of the meaning of Is lamic teaching. Devotionto Allah i s indeed demanded of any Moslem, but there are a lso otherrespons ib i l i t ies . Fai lure to perform any of the prescr ibed dut iesi s a f a i l u r e i n one ' s obl iga t ions to Allah.

Thecol lec t ion of these s t o r i e s began as ea r ly as

1972 whenSteve Walker took a course in di rec ted language s tudy from me. Asmore and more students became in te res ted in t r ans l a t i on work, Ithought t ha t ra ther than doing random t rans la t ions as classroomexerc i ses , i t would be be t t e r to se l ec t s to r i e s with an aim towardpubl ica t ion , so tha t those who do not know Indonesian would be ableto share the product. Except for the l a s t s tory, which I t rans la tedmyself, the r e s t are the works of my s tudents in Hawaii, a l l ofwhom have now graduated.


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One of the d i f f i c u l t i e s t h a t encountered in co l l e c t i ng theses t o r i e s was the r a r i t y o f the s t o r i e s themselves. Despi te the highpercentage of Moslems in the populat ion in Indonesia . was not ab leto f ind a s u f f i c i e n t number of s t o r i e s from which could choose.

do hope however t ha t the co l l e c t i on presented here wi l l give a tl e a s t a glimpse o f what Is lamic l i f e i s l i k e

S. D.


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Original Ti t l e ; Djadi San t r iAuthor Dj amil SuhermanTranslator Steve Walker

BECOMING SANTRI

Listening to the pe r s i s t en t throbbing of the drum on an eveningsuch as t h i s reminds me of my childhood when I s t i l l d i l i gen t ly readthe holy books in Kyai S j a f i i s surau How could I poss ib ly forge ti t - - t h e drum tha t makes my hear t tremble. The sound s t i l l f i l l s mewith an overwhelming sense of b l i s s , a sensat ion t ha t suddenly tugsa t my hear t bringing a des i r e for closeness with Allah and my Prophet.I have heard t h i s sound s ince childhood hut i t s t i l l reverbera tesin the corner of my hear t day and night . I t spreads through my bodybecoming one with my f lesh and blood giving me a peace of mind andhappiness. I t w i l l s tay with me u n t i l the day I d ie . s I reminiscedsacred r e l i g ious f igures l ingered in my mind ca l l ing me to thankAllah. nd then I sa id i t : AZhamduZiZZah.

The drum i s beaten a l i t t l e longer than usual a t sundown a t thebeginning of the fas t ing month or in the middle of the nigh t to wakeup those who want to pray or ea t the predarNn meal. After the eveningprayers the drum i s aga in beaten with a spec ia l rhythm while thesantr is the scholars in t he i r sarongs clean s h i r t s , and piaisloya l ly and devotedly read the holy books aloud in the surau

In f ron t of us Kyai S j a f i i sa t meditat ing his white turbandangl ing over his neck gazing i n t en t ly in to our faces as i f wishingto determine how c lose we have been to our Allah. We read in tu rn


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from the holy books, r o t a t i ng verse by verse , chap te r by chapter u n t i lf a r in to the nigh t . nd whenever we heard the midnight drum, westopped for a while . After f in i sh ing our prayers , we cont inued readingu n t i l i t was time for the predawn meal.

Such was our custom. I was one of Kyai S j a f i i s most d i l i gen ts tudents . Everyone, including Kyai S j a f i i , l iked me very much. SinceI was one of the oldes t s tudents , I of ten took Kyai S j a f i i s placewhen he was unable to conduct the prayer se rv ices in the s u r ~ ~ Int h i s pos i t ion I received the gree t ings of the devout , those who hadj u s t f in i shed r e c i t i ng the confess ion of f a i t h . My hand would be takenmost reveren t ly, al though I was bare ly an adul t and had j u s t l e f tI b t i d a i j a h s Is lamic school .

Kyai S j a f i i s t ~ a u was not fa r from my home. I t stood in acompound tha t made up a r e l i g ious t r a i n ing cen te r for Is lamic l ea rn ing .I t was loca ted in the v i l l age of Kedungpring in the s u b d i s t r i c t of

Tanggulrejo, which was renowned fo r i t s peaceful inhabi tan ts . Thesurau had been b u i l t years before I was born- - in f ac t , while KyaiS j a f i i s fa ther Kyai Achmad was s t i l l young and my fa ther was hiss tuden t . I t was very old- fash ioned and, because of i t s age, wasfa l l i ng a p a r t in many places .

Nevertheless , the people of Kedungpring did not ignore t h e i rsacred surau Each year they worked together to f i x everything t h a tneeded repa i r ing . Since t h i s was the only l a rge and important surauin the v i l l age , i t was f i l l e d with a c t i v i t y. Many s a n t r i s came fromthe surrounding area to r e c i t e the holy books, making the surau a veryl i ve ly place. Not only was the surau in cons tan t use by these assemb l i e s for carrying out t he i r r e l i g ious o b l i g a t i o n s and performing t he i rf ive ob l iga to ry p rayers , but every Friday and on each day of re l ig iouss ign i f icance i t was used j u s t l i ke a ~ o s q u Behind the surau stoodthe house of the learned Kyai S j a f i i and, adjoining t ha t , a longbarracks fo r the students who came from every corner of the countryto s tudy a t the boarding school fo r severa l years .

Kyai Achmad s greatness had been inher i t ed by his son KyaiS j a f i i , so tha t seekers of r e l i g ious knowledge everywhere had grea tf a i t h in him. The name of Kyai S j a f i i was wel l known both in andbeyond the v i l l age , and people considered him a very g r e a t teacher.He was even ca l led sheikh a t i t l e reserved for learned or wise schola rs .

I s t i l l remember the g r e a t t eachers who once came to v i s i t KyaiS j a f i i s boarding school a t the end of the fas t ing month: KyaiHasim Asjar i from Tebuireng, Kyai Mahfud Sid ik from Surabaya, KyaiMahfud from Sidoar jo , Kyai Bakri , Kyai Abdullah Ubeid, and many more.The fac t t h a t so many g rea t r e l i g ious t eachers came to Kyai S j a f i i sboarding school proved t h a t Kedungpring was a place of r e l i g ious andh i s t o r i c a l s ign i f icance .

I was born and ra i sed in Kedungpring, but i t was in Kyai S j a f i i ssurau tha t I learned the holy books and gained my r e l i g ious knowledge.I remember how, long ago, a f t e r the ear ly morning prayer I would s i t


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a t the small t ab le under the dim l i g h t of the gas lamp, dressed in mysarong, white c o l l a r l e s s s h i r t , and my pici With devotion I went tothe surau to perform my r e l i g ious obl iga t ions . Taking the cold greenholy water from the pool , I pa r t i c i pa t ed in the prayers and the

d iv ine se rv ice . I a l so remember how I once ca l led everyone to prayerand joined others in bea t ing the drum. I was very proud of mymelodious voice. Each time a sentence ended in ZZahu Akbar I sangthe words with a gent le rhythm which echoed to the mountains. Andwhen the se rv ices and readings were over, we a l l walked home toge theri n the dark, enjoying the c l i p - c lop sound of our wooden s l i ppe r s . OnFridays we rec i ted prayers fo r the dead with food provided by thefami l ies of the deceased. Below the gas lamp we s a t crosslegged onthe f loor, our backs aga ins t the wall . Every space aga ins t the wal lso f the room was f i l l e d . I s t i l l remember how naughty Dja f a r was,ogl ing the food in f ron t o f him.

When I had f in i shed lea rn ing the t h i r t y chap te r s of the Koran,my e lder bro ther took me to Surabaya, where I at tended Mufidah sIs lamic school in Sawahan. Here I met our master. Kyai Mas Hansur,who was a prominent f igure in Muhammadijah* and a graduate of AlAzhar Universi ty in Egypt. His dress was simple--a sarong, a c o l l a r -l e s s s h i r t , and a pici

Although I was a l ready e ight years old , I had my f i r s t i n s t r uc t i onin reading and wri t ing in Arabic i n t h i s school. However, s ince myfa ther had prev ious ly i n s t r uc t ed me in Arabic pronunciat ion and in tonat i on a s well as the fiqh I d i d n t f ind the lessons too d i f f i c u l t . Soi t wasn t too surpr i s ing tha t with in a few years I had progressed tothe h ighes t grade. From tha t t ime on I received more advanced l e ssons .such as the i n t e rp re t a t i on o f the Koran, ar i thmet ic , Arabic grammar,h i s to ry, and other r a the r genera l subjec ts .

For seven years I s tayed a t Kyai Mas ~ ~ s u r s boarding school .During my f i na l year, I jo ined the r e c i t a t i o n s of the adul t s t ha tfol lowed the af ternoon prayer. I can s t i l l hear Kyai Mas Mansur sb eau t i f u l voice as he read the Koran with a steady and smooth rhythm.I knew his family very wel l . espec ia l ly his th ree mischievous sons:Aunur Rafig, Nuh, and Ibrahim. After ea r l y morning se rv ices , Nuh andI would of ten s top to have green pea porr idge a t the v i l l age ofKetapang Basar.

I t was during my res idence in the boarding school t h a t I became

acquainted with the bus t l ing world and with a l l kinds o f people ,knowledge, and ideas .

I came to know both the person and the mind of Kyai Mas Mansurvery wel l . He was both g r e a t and broadminded. He s t i l l haunts mythoughts ; his voice cons tan t ly reverbera tes in my hear t . He awakenedmy s leepy sou l and s t i r r e d my i n t e r e s t , so t h a t I again unders toodmyself and Allah. I t was he a l s o who plan ted in my hear t the essence

A Moslem organ iza t ion considered progress ive in Indonesia .


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of holy teachings. Though he i s now dead, His face i s continual lybefore me.

I t wasn ' t s t range a t a l l t ha t my fe l low santris in Kedungpringand I did not look a t things in the same way, for they had never beento school. Old people a l so got very upset i f a student of Islam couldspeak Dutch. But I t r i ed to give c l ea r explanat ions in our discussions,espec ia l ly i f the topic could lead to se r ious di ffe rences . However,deep down in the i r hear t s my fel low s tudents , j u s t l i ke Kyai S j a f i i ,l iked me because I was always ready to meet t he i r arguments.

On Thursday evening in the surau when we had f in i shed the eveningprayer, we usua l ly read the Koran to the e lders , who cons tan t ly longedfor Allah and the he rea f t e r. Without f a i l , I was the one who was askedto read. I don ' t know why the e lders enjoyed l i s t en ing to my voice somuch, but they sa id t h a t I read in a beaut i fu l and touching s ty l e .All of t h i s made both my parents and me proud.

There was one custom o f the v i l l age o f Kedungpring tha t I cannotforge t . Any young man who was respected and admired, espec ia l ly i fhe was handsome, inev i tab ly became the objec t o f f r iendly gossip amongthe vi l lage famil ies . There would be many among the e lders who wishedto take him as a son-in- law. But, of course , they wouldn ' t marry j u s tany g i r l to him; and unless they were r ich , kyais o r respected people ,they wouldn ' t dare to engage in t h i s match-making a t a l l . However,sometimes they were so subt le in t ry ing to win his hear t tha t theywould even tua l ly t rap him. And how proud they would be, for i t wasa grea t honor for the asp i r ing paren ts - in - law to be successful int h i s t a sk . In t h i s manner I a l so became a candidate of the r e l i g ious

minded g i r l s and mothers of the v i l l age . Whenever I passed t he i rhouses, beaut i fu l eyes followed me from behind the screens. Quiteof ten I was teased by those hopeful mothers, but I was j u s t s ix teenand couldn ' t be bothered with such mat te rs . What's more, my progress ive fa ther, a former member of Tjokroaminoto's United Islam Par ty,did not l i ke customs of t h i s na ture .

One time my grandfa ther whispered to me: Say, you know Zainab,the daughter of Haji Taj ib , don ' t you?

I knew the purpose behind t h i s quest ion, but s t i l l I rep l ied ,Yes. Why?

Yesterday Haji Tajib came here and asked about you.

About me?

I only promised to mention t h i s matter to you.

I was s i l e n t , for I knew what he meant by t h i s mat te r. Seeingme f a l l s i l e n t , he j u s t smiled.

As was the custom of the santris in my v i l l age , besides thereadings offered by Kyai S j a f i i , we of ten sang the marhaban and the


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qasidah. These could be sung anytime in the evening, e i ther in thesurau or in the houses of those who wished to honor the ProphetMuhanunad. This ceremony of p ra i s e to the Prophet was performedloud ly, e i t he r s i t t i n g or standing, and was occas iona l ly accompaniedby tambourine.

One Thursday evening my fr iends and I were inv i ted to sing themarhaban in the home of Haji Tajib in Ketapang. The moon shonec l ea r ly as we l e f t the surau following the evening prayer. TheTaj ibs welcomed us as warmly as i f we had been haj i s j u s t re tu rn ingfrom Mecca. We were inv i ted in to the f ron t room, which was decoratedwith f igures inscr ibed with sacred verses , and we sa t on the carpe tunder the br igh t l i g h t of a gas lamp. s soon as everyone was seated,we en thus i a s t i c a l l y began the marhaban. F i r s t we solemnly to ld thes tory of the Prophet Muhammad from his b i r t h to his adulthood. Thenwe stood and sang the s tory of the Prophe t ' s g rea tness , to ld in theform of rhyming qua t ra ins . When each Moslem welcomed the a r r i v a l

of the Prophet, we sang vigorously:Marhaban ya nW U aini marhaban.Marhaban jaddal husaini marhaban.

Fina l ly we sa t again. The marhaban was l ed by the beau t i f u l voice ofI d r i s , Kyai S j a f i i s nephew.

s usua l , before the main dishes o f food were brought out ,snacks were served, giving the gues t s an oppor tun i ty to perform theqasidah where each of us was to sing ind iv idua l ly. Rhythmic andsent imental Arab songs were usua l ly sung. Afte r severa l of my f r i endshad t he i r turn, mine came. I thought a moment, and then decided

t ha t t would be much b e t t e r i f I sang a popular Arab song: "Lai lahwa Lai lah ." nd so I began.

While I was s ing ing , I sensed someone watching me. I saw eyespeeping a t me from behind the cu r t a in s . mong them was an espec ia l lybea u t i f u l pa i r, s t a r i ng f l i r t a t i o u s l y. twinkl ing l i ke f i r e f l i e s .!lOh, you ' re r ea l l y gorgeous I thought. For a while I s ta red backa t those eyes, as they seemed to grow l ove l i e r. I remembered whatmy grandfather had sa id severa l days before. Maybe i t was Zainab-- thedaughter of Haji Tajib the most beaut i fu l g i r l in the v i l l age . Ibecame nervous and my voice trembled. Sweat began to t r i c k l e downmy forehead. A moment l a t e r I f in i shed the song and as I bowed myhead I wiped away the sweat with one hand. Suddenly a g i r l s voicearose from behind the cur ta ins :

"Once again Again " I s ta red in the d i r ec t i on from which thevo ice had come, and I saw a face hidden behind a v e i l . Then I heardwhisper ing from other g i r l s , and I knew they must have enjoyedl i s t en ing to the sent imental Arab song. "Again " they repeated.became panicky.

A man in a yellow turban appeared from behind the cur ta in . Hestood on the threshold and looked a t me. Then he gazed f ixed ly a tthe other santris . We followed his gaze, anxiously awai t ing whatthe old man would say.

I


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lfGentlemen, I wish to ask you something" he spoke s lowly andhoarsely. \.Jho among you would l i k e to read the Book of Joseph?"He glanced a t me. Wouldn't you know t h a t my f r i ends began screaming"Ojamil OJ amil " to/hile poin t ing a t me. Again I panicked. I t r i e dto re fuse , but the pressure from the aji and my f r i ends forced me

to acquiesce to t h e i r reques t .

"Yes, the Book of Joseph," sa id the g i r l behind the cu r t a in . Iwiped my brow again and coughed in order to ca tch my brea th . Everyonegrew q u i e t . aji Taj ib sa t crosslegged in the corner, his head boweddevotedly, as i f ready to rece ive a r e v e l a t i o n from Allah. I beganwith the opening chap te r of the Koran and then read the f i r s t sentenceof the Book of Joseph. I r e c i t ed slowly and de l i be r a t e ly a t f i r s tand then allowed my voice to grow high and swel l ing. At the end o feach verse , I was accompanied by a l l of those presen t in s inging "Al lah . "

I was f i l l e d with a sense of mystery t h a t n i g h t . I could see inmy mind's eye a handsome se rvan t o f Al lah- - the Prophet Joseph--burst ingfo r th from the c louds in the sky. Accompanied by Pr incess Zulaihafrom Egypt, he came to us smil ing, with open arms; she was as b e a u t i f u las a f a i r y - - so b e a u t i f u l t h a t the g i r l s who watched from behind thecu r t a in were enchanted and j e a l o u s . Soon Joseph was t rapped by hisj ea lous b ro thers and thrown in to a wel l . Late r, a caravan of Bedouinson camels ar r ived , l i f t e d Joseph from the wel l , and car r ied him toEgypt, where they sold him.

I glanced a t aji Taj ib , who was caught up i n the s t o r y, mesmerizedby the atmosphere of the evening. His head kept nodding and every nowand then he mumbled something. Truly, t h a t nigh t was myster ious and holy.

The image vanished when the reading about Joseph ' s love for theEgyptian pr incess ended. I t was t h i s book t h a t the g i r l s in my v i l l ageloved and enjoyed the most. I saw aji Taj ib open his eyes slowly,as though awakening from a b e a u t i f u l dream. His face rad ia ted thesweetness of the s t o r y a s he turned to look a t me. I bowed my head.I thought of a l l t h a t had been depicted in my read ing .

From within the house came the sound of pots and pans j ang l ing .Not long af terwards the main dishes ar r ived . My f r i ends began to jokeloudly, many of them t eas ing each other. The dishes were passed fromhand to hand, u n t i l they had c i r c l ed the room. Fina l l y, a t the i nv i t a t i onof aji Taj ib , we dug in to the food with r e l i s h l eve l ing a mountainof r i c e and roas t chicken.

And t h i s I s t i l l remember wel l , and wi l l never f o rg e t : After wehad ea ten and wrapped up packages of the l e f t -ove r food to take homewith us, a very t h in man suddenly entered from behind the cu r t a in .Carrying a l a rge package, he approached me. My f r i ends a l l s ta red .When the man had extended g r e e t i n g s , he sa t down in f ron t of me s e tthe package on the f l o o r, and taking hold of my r i gh t hand, placed another,smal ler package in i t . He sa id nothing; the packages de l ivered , hes tood up and l e f t .


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Original Ti t l e : Darah Seorang AyahSource Sastpa No.5 , I I 1962Author A D DonggoTranslator Florence m o u r e ~ ~

As sup us go ours was a r e l a t ive ly simple bui ld ing . I t waslocated in the middle of the v i l l age , and i t s s ty l e , l i ke the majori tyof such buildings where Moslems around the world gather to worshipAllah. showed Arab in f luence . The shape being ra ther foreign-looking,i t stood out among the v i l l age houses, where i t seemed almost l i k e al a rge toy. I t was t i g h t l y enclosed by a tumeric wood fence aboutone and a hal f meters high. There were always c a t t l e roaming aroundthe v i l l age and t h i s fence kept them away from the sur u along withthe inevi tab le f i l t h y dogs. The walls were made of rough woodenplanks c lose ly f i t t e d toge ther, and the f loor t i l e s were crudelymade. But t h i s wasn t important. What mattered was tha t the surauwas Allah s house, a place for r e s t l e s s souls to seek peace. Howeveri t wasn t very peaceful there during the f ive times each day whensan t r i s must pray or on Fridays. On t h i s holy day a l l work came toa ha l t as the hour neared for us to a t tend the serv ice . The en t i r ev i l l age populat ion, throngs of people . flooded in to the house ofAllah l i ke Islamic pi lgr ims approaching the Holy Stone in Mecca.Indeed, on Fridays the surau i s as sacred for Moslems who have notyet f u l f i l l e d tha t tene t of Islam tha t urges each fol lower to makethe holy journey to Mecca as the pilgrimage i t s e l f would be.

During the week the main purpose of prayers i s to make moremerit in Allah s eyes. The f a i t h f u l must, however, gather a t the


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surau on Fridays and l i s t e n to a sermon t h a t a kh tib del ivers . Histheme i s always a va r i a t i on on the grea tness of r e l i g ion and the gloryof Allah. The ev i l en te r h e l l because they s in , and the good en te rheaven because they do kind deeds and keep the f a i t h through prayersoffe red with t he i r fe l low Moslems.

Ins ide the surau i s a speaker ' s platform flanked by two greenf lags . Each i s emblazoned with s t r i k ing yellow Arabic sc r ip t tha treads:

There i s no God but Allah and Mohammad i s h i s Apost le .

I t was near these banners t ha t my fa ther and I sa t together eachFriday. He chose t h i s place c lose to the kh tib so tha t he could hearevery word of the sermon. He concentrated on the spoken words withh i s very soul , as though he were alone and not amidst tha t sacredassembly. I 'm sure t ha t a t those t imes my fa ther did not see himselfin a small , simple surau in a v i l l age i n Sumbawa, but ra ther kneelinga t the Sacred Stone in Mecca. Father devoutly bel ieved tha t thewords of the sermon were the t rue teachings of Allah, and in order toexto l the vi r tues of the Almighty, who created man from the dust ofthe ground, we crea tures must pay homage to Him. Of course my fa thercould never understand what the kh tib was saying. The sermon wasalways de l ive red in Arabic because i t i s sa id t ha t the language ofAllah ' s apos t le i s c loser to t ha t of the Creator than any other.

My fa ther bel ieved t ha t we should accept unquest ioningly a l lt h a t Allah decreed, and t h a t we should implement His plan with devotionso t ha t we might be prosperous here and in the world hereaf te r. Onlythose prepared to kneel and bow the i r heads to the ground in worship

of Allah could receive His t each ings . To ignore Him or to de l i be r a t e lyshun understanding of His teachings would r e s u l t in our becomings t rangers in our own land. That ' s what my fa ther sa id .

s fo r me, what did I know of Allah ' s words? I was j u s t a chi ld ,only about seven years old . I would s i t the re meditat ing with theother worshippers, the only di ffe rence being t ha t I was the re becauseof my f a t h e r s coaxing and because he would promise to l e t me r idethe horse when we l e f t the serv ice and went down to the r i c e f i e l d .My older s i s t e r a lso used to br ibe me to go with my father by offe r ingto buy me new c lo thes . That would r ea l ly make me fee l important.When I walked beside my fa ther people were always noticing me. Theywould say, "Look a t our beloved t eacher ' s grandson. He 's so cute in

h i s embroidered pi i and new Buginese sarong Doesn ' t he look grand,so proper and so br igh t? He i s a t rue grandson of our uru Moa. He'sce r t a in to follow i n h i s grandfa ther ' s foo ts teps and no doubt one dayh e l l be a very respec ted man.

uru Moa, my grandfa ther, had been a l ea rned man and a well-knownre l ig ious l eader i n our v i l l age . He had earned a repu ta t ion as as teadfas t old gentleman who enjoyed helping people , and the v i l l age r swanted me to grow up to be l i k e him--one who spreads the l i gh t of Allah ' sword to u n ~ l i v r s s t i l l l i v ing i n darkness .


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There were dozens of Islamic students in places outs ide of ourv i l l age who had studied with my grandfather. My mother of ten spokeof his s t a tu re in these places . She always sa id tha t my grandfa therhad had a unique approach, one tha t di ffe red from tha t of his fellowteachers . e had bel ieved tha t the teacher should go to the studentsand not the other way around. This be l i e f took him from v i l l age tov i l l age , a cons tan t t r ave l e r whose compassion toward his fellow manhad been inexhaus t ib le . e never t i r ed . The more d i s t an t thev i l l ages he v i s i t e d the more s t rength and courage he gathered. ehad bel ieved tha t working in fa r places offe red the opportuni ty toincrease his heavenly reward. Grandfather f e l t tha t each foo ts tephad a proport ional reward and fo r t h i s reason he refused to t r ave lon horseback. Although some of these v i l l ages were a considerabledis tance away, he always walked to them. His l egs were no longerthe legs of an ordinary man, but Allah had sure ly s t rengthened mygrandfa ther ' s l imbs.

Grandfather had always sa id tha t those who were unsure of theteachings of Allah should not be compelled to come to the teacher,but ra ther tha t the teacher should convince them to open t he i rhear t s and l e t the lamp of His understanding shine i n . e f e l t tha tthe re was no one on ear th incapable of accept ing genuine kindnessi f i t were offered to him repeatedly and in a s p i r i t of love. Indeed,Allah blesses the sou ls tha t bow to Mecca.

One day my mother announced to me, "You must follow in yourgrandfa ther ' s pa th ."

ItMust I then be good a t r ec i t i ng the holy books?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered. "Of course you must be good a t i t . Youwould have to study hard to become a grea t ulama l i ke t ha t , g ~ n n g a repu ta t ion throughout a l l the vi l lages as one who spreads themantle of Islam. 1t

With t h i s goal in mind and dressed in the customary c lo th ing ,I went with my parents to the home of a well-known Islamic t eacher-one of my grandfa ther ' s former s tudents , as a matter of fac t . Ont ha t occasion I had with me a new copy of the Koran which, accordingto custom, I had car r ied on my head from my home to the t e ache r ' shouse. This was to show respec t for Allah ' s word. The book hadbeen purchased espec ia l ly fo r me to mark t h i s milestone in my l i f e .My brand new clothes included a destar a beaut i fu l s h i r t and a newcheckered sarong. mustn ' t fo rge t to mention the g i f t s I broughtalong for the teacher: glut inous r i ce dyed yellow, pink, and blackwi th some l e f t white t ha t was shaped in to a cone t ha t reached to myelbow; a bunch of l a rge Amboinese bananas; and a t r ay of toas tedr i c e covered by a piece of unbleached co t ton . These things wereoffered as a t r i bu t e to the teacher.

Oh, but wasn ' t proud with my new Koran and my spec ia l ly boughtc lo thes In a l l my l i f e I had never been so wel l turned out , exceptmaybe on Fridays or on Lebaran and then I could only wear the clothes


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for a l i t t l e while . When tha t day was over I always had to take themoff and re tu rn them for safekeeping. I wasn' t supposed to show offwith those new c lo thes . But not t h i s time. These c lo thes were mineto keep forever and no one could take them away from me. They werea g i f t because I was about to become a student of the Koran.

My f r i ends discussed my new venture a t grea t l eng th . Some weresurpr i sed and some were ce r t a in tha t I would do my grandfa ther ' s memoryproud. But the re were others who be t I ' d never make i t . They sa idthere was no guarantee tha t a grandfa ther ' s i n t e l l i gence would bepassed on to his grandson. The adul t s were more pos i t i ve . In t he i rminds I would emerge from Is lamic school and f i l l the void crea tedwhen my grandfather passed away.

When we reached the t e ache r ' s home my paren t s handed me over toh i s care with the t r ad i t i ona l ceremony. My mother began. We cameto give our boy to you. We hope tha t you wi l l accep t him and tha the wi l l be a good student in the ways of Allah and tha t the holy wordwi l l f i l l his sou l . Esteemed teacher, who has a l ready received thelegacy of t h i s boy ' s grandfa ther, we pray tha t same legacy may bepassed on to our son . This was t r u ly my mother 's des i r e .

After de l iver ing her speech my mother offe red the food to myteacher. He se lec ted a banana. which he peeled and coated with thepuffy toasted r i ce . He then offered i t to me. ind ica t ing t ha t I shouldswallow the th ing whole. I willed my th roa t to open in an t i c i pa t i onof the l a rge f r u i t . I f I could swallow i t in one piece , without i tget t ing s tuck , i t would be a s ign tha t I would be c lever and my tonguef luen t in r ec i t i ng the verses of Allah ' s holy book. Anxiously Ipicked up the banana the t eacher was offer ing me. My poor body wast rembling. There was a big ques t ion in my mind as to whether I couldswallow a f r u i t as l a rge as my arm--one tha t was covered with drypieces of r i c e . I could imagine tha t banana ge t t i ng stuck in myth roa t and suffocat ing me.

Don't be a f r a id , sa id the teacher who cou ldn ' t help but not icemy trembling. Try i t .

I d idn ' t answer. Then I looked a t my mother and I l i f t e d thef r u i t to my l i p s . I was sure the space ins ide my mouth would neverbe ab le to hold tha t banana. I wanted to chew i t , to j u s t mash i tup, but I quickly shut out t ha t thought as I remembered tha t chewingwas forbidden. Then ga ther ing a l l my s t reng th I concentrated on

swallowing i t . Both my paren ts , and the t eacher, watched me witht o t a l absorpt ion. Each must have been consider ing the outcome--canhe do i t or not? I t was me a lone , however, who was involved in thel i f e or death s t ruggle of forcing tha t enormous objec t down my th roa t .Meantime my eyes began to bulge out . The banana was now caught andwas ac tua l l y choking me. In my hear t I accepted the f a c t t ha t Iwould die j u s t as soon as my breath was used up. Nevertheless , It r i ed hard to muster up more s t reng th as I pushed a t tha t thing withevery muscle in my t h roa t . F ina l ly, I could f ee l i t move, and Ibegan to be ab le to swallow. Then a l l of a sudden the banana was inmy stomach. Ins tan t ly I f e l t sickeningly f u l l and my eyes s t a r t ed to run.


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The toasted r i ce had f a i l ed to go down with the banana and wass t ick ing to the ins ide of my mouth. Without rea l iz ing i t I began tochew i t and then with one gulp i t was a l l gone.

The three adul t s beamed a t me with expressions tha t said I hadsucceeded. They were beside themselves with my performance, espec ia l lymy mother who envis ioned a glor ious fu ture for our family with theb i r t h of yet another famous utama. For a r e l i g ious family the re i sno glory grea te r than having an ulama in the home. I t meant tha t thehouse would always be f u l l of people coming to ask for bless ings . ymother could already smel l the sweet f ragrance of pie ty and glory.She was cer ta in tha t in ten years grandfather would l i ve again.

Has your son been circumcised? asked the teacher.

Not ye t , answered my mother.

How old i s he now?

Seven years o ld .

Well, you don ' t have to have i t done before he graduates . Whynot wait and have the graduat ion and circumcision ceremonies a t thesame time?

That was our i n t en t ion , answered my mother.

Well, now, did you hear t ha t , Firdaus? said the teacher.

You c a n t be circumcised i f you don ' t graduate . For t h i s reasonyou must study hard. You c a n t be l azy. You must follow in yourgrandfa ther ' s foo ts teps . You r e a l i z e t h a t h e w a s a g r e a t ulama famousthroughout our v i l l age and the surrounding ones. In many a farawayva l l ey and remote ravine your grandfa ther ' s name i s s t i l l esteemedby those who know the grea tness of Al lah ' s mercy and of His t e ache r ' sserv ice . His blessings have reassured many doubtful hear t s . Peoples t i l l remember his kindness and his prayers . He gave guidance ind i f f i c u l t t imes and held high a lamp to i l lumina te the way to Allah ' sgreatness. You, as his grandson, are a t rue extension of t h i sunse l f i shness . May Allah give you a f luen t tongue, prayed the teacheras he f inished his l i t t l e speech.

I had l i s t ened ca r e fu l l y to his advice. I couldn ' t imagineanyone not wanting pra i s e and respec t . Everybody wanted to be lovedand appreciated, but what about people for whom the road to suchglory would be fa r from easy? What about me? Was i t r ea l ly possiblet ha t in a few shor t years I could ac tua l ly complete the reading ofa l l t h i r t y chapters of the Koran? Jus t a look a t the l e t t e r s in theHoly Book to ld me t ha t I . who could make absolutely no sense of thes c r i p t , would ce r t a in ly have a hard row to hoe. The st range lookingl e t t e r s would have to be memorized by each s tudent . I was worriedtha t i t would be many years before I d f i n i sh reading tha t noblebook. My uneasiness had fur ther increased when the teacher hadannounced tha t my circumcision would be postponed u n t i l I graduated.How could they do t ha t to me?


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Suppose I 'm f i f t een before I graduate , I thought. That ' s pre t tyold to be circumcised. I would be embarrassed. y fr iends wouldlaugh a t me and say tha t not only had I fa i led to i nhe r i t my grandf a t h e r s bra ins , but I was old enough to be a fa ther before I gotcircumcised.

Nevertheless , beginning t ha t very day the teacher introduced meto the Arabic l e t t e r s - -a l i f ba ta sa the l e t t e r s in which werewri t ten Allah ' s Holy Book, which He had given to His servant Mohammad.Day a f t e r day I st ruggled with t h i s alphabet t ry ing to memorize i t sfo re ign shapes. I f we knew a l l the l e t t e r s , we could then l ea rn tomake words from them. After master ing t h i s s k i l l one would be ab leto read the verses of the holy Koran. Even then he would be a longway from understanding what they sa id . Our teacher never explainedthe meaning of the words, so we couldn ' t t r ans l a t e the verses . Allah ' slanguage i s fo r Him. His True Word i s exclusively His and not to bein te rpre ted by j u s t anybody.

Two years had passed s ince I en te red the pondok and I had onlybeen ab le to read f ive chapters of the holy book. I was obviouslys tup id . I had ce r t a in ly not been blessed with tha t c lever tonguetha t my mother and t eacher had so hoped for. There were boys in myc l a s s who had a l ready f in i shed t h e i r f i r s t reading of the Koran andwere back on chapter one, s t a r t i n g the second time around. Damnthey were smart. They memorized and spouted the holy words l i ke waterrecycled in foun ta ins . They were even ab le to chant the verses int h e i r own unique s ty l e s . Their tongues were as c lever as those oft rue Arabs. I t was almost as though Mohammad had v i s i t ed them a t theoutse t of t h e i r s tud ies and assured each one tha t he was chosen tospread the word of Allah throughout his l i f e t ime . But when th i s g i f thad been given, I had been l e f t out . I never even t r i ed to manipulatemy tongue ' s twis t ings and tu rn ings to produce the genuine Arabictones . The holy words always came out in my ordinary voice and Iended up sounding l i ke a hick, a boy born in the middle of a r i c ef i e ld somewhere in Sumbawa.

Even though I was se l f -consc ious and f e l t l e f t out where myreading and memorizing were concerned, I had to admit tha t pa r t ofmy problem was the fac t tha t I lacked the necessary des i re to s t ruggleto reach the o the r s ' l eve l of accomplishment. I studied as much as Idid for my mother 's sake. This whole thing had been her idea, notmine. So what i f I missed out on a guarantee to en te r heaven becauseI was lazy? I had no r eg re t s . The heavenly world would not be for

me anyway. I t was probably a foreign place inhabi ted by people ofanother world.

There was one th ing , though, tha t bothered me a grea t dea l . I fI f a i l ed to graduate would my mother forbid my circumcision? Thishad become almost an obsession with me. I t may seem odd tha t one soyoung should be so consumed by th i s thought, but I was. I wanted toexperience tha t pa infu l sensa t ion my f r i ends sa id occurred when thefo resk in was removed, when the bamboo kni fe cu t away t h i s skin. Id i d n t fear the pa in . On the contrary I ant ic ipa ted i t because theysa id tha t once circumcised a boy would soon become a young man and


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before long he would know a woman. How could such thoughts f a i l toarouse me Becoming an a d u l t and f a l l i ng in love with a woman appealedto me f a r more than l ea rn ing the holy verses .

After a while the people in our v i l l age began gossiping aboutmy lack of progress a t the I s l amic school. They shook t he i r headsand sa id t h a t i t seemed tha t g randfa ther s blood did not flow in myveins a f t e r a l l (meaning o f course my mother s blood, as he was herf a the r ) . They sa id tha t the Amboinese banana I had swallowed wholet h a t day had been a use less predic t ion . They agreed tha t I tooka f t e r my fa ther. No descendant on his s ide of the family would everhave the i n t e l l i gence to become an ulama. However, they added tha tsuch a descendant would ce r t a in ly not be lacking in obedience toAllah or in o ff e r i n g prayers to Him. But such a man would be moreap t to care for horses and water buffa loes or other grazing animalsthan to cu l t i va t e a f luen t tongue fo r r ec i t i ng the Koran. Indeed,ca t t l eman s blood flowed in my fa ther. I f I had t r u ly i n h e r i t e d hisway with animals i t must assured ly be Al l ah s wi l l .

This became inc reas ing ly evident as the two years passed and Imade so l i t t l e academic progress . I became bored with the confusingfo re ign s c r i p t Each day I faced the same th ing . There was nothingnew except the twis t s and tu rns o f the l e t t e r s My boredom made medaydream and d r i f t from A l l a h s holy words. I couldn t help i tMy i n t e r e s t s were changing.

I t was t rue t ha t I to ld Mother I was going to school . but tha twasn t r ea l l y my plan . In the va l leys and f i e l d s fa r from ourv i l l a g e the re were people who tamed wild horses . Had she looked

fo r me I could have been found the re . My ears can almost hear thesounds of those t imes--sounds t h a t cause my blood to r i s e in exc i t ement. The horse tamers had usua l ly greeted me with an eager welcome.They rea l ized tha t the uZama s grandson and the horse keeper sgrandson had t r u ly been given a legacy.


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Original Ti t l e : Sepotong Kayu untuk TuhanSource Hopison Apri l 1972Author Kuntowidj oj aTrans la tor Joan Suyenaga

TR FOR LL H

The sun was already high over the countryside as the old man layon the bamboo lounger in f ron t of h i s house. He had been re lax inga l l morning. There was no one to bother him. His wife was not a thome. "Thanks to Allah, I fathered a chi ld and tha t chi ld fa thereda chi ld ." Several days ago, the old woman h i s wife, to ld him tha tshe longed to see her grandchi ldren. So, the fussy woman had l e f t .She went on the ear ly morning t r a in yesterday.

He was alone. I f h i s wife had been there she would have naggedhim as soon as he lay down as he was doing now. "Get up, you lazyold man," his wife would have sa id , but she wasn ' t there. The oldman stretched his legs and inhaled his pipe smoke deeply. Now hewas t r u ly f ree , and he would do j u s t as he pleased: l i e in the cha i rand enjoy the sky, the t r ee s , and h i s garden.

His house was on the edge of the v i l l age , fa r from neighbors .There was no one who could see him ly ing there so long. In back ofthe house was a small r ive r. His garden sloped down to i t s edge.Trees decorated the yard, but how heavy h i s work was. I f his wifehad been home she would have ordered him to work in the yard. There.was always something to do. "Firewood No more firewood What amessy yard " He would have to move quickly or she would spray himwith water. Of course, he knew the work was necessary; i t was h i swife ' s fuss iness tha t he couldn ' t stand. With a l l his gray ha i r hewas s t i l l considered l azy. Damn i t Well his wife wasn' t now.


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"I 'm not l azy," thought the old man. til am the descendant ofhardworking people. I 'm indus t r ious from the t i p of my toes to thetop of my head." He pul led on h i s pipe. "Then prove i t , grandpa,"he thought suddenly. Yes, i t was easy to say. Proving i t was d i f f ic u l t . Yet he d i d n t know what work ac tua l l y had to be done a t thet ime. There was no need to g e t firewood s ince the re was plenty in

the kitchen already. He had p i l e d i t there himself . What about rakingthe yard? I t was use less ; there was no one to see i t . His housewas hidden from view.

He jumped to his f ee t . "For God's sake , " he cr ied . uNo oneshould waste t ime " He remembered something he should do. Lazingabout was not the th ing for a good Moslem. He had heard t h a t thev i l l age people were building a new surau Many people had cont r ibu tedmater ia l s for i t . Boards, roof t i l e s , and l ime had been co l lec ted .School ch i ld ren had looked for s tones and sand from the r i v e r . I twas hardly proper for a l i f e - l o n g Moslem l i k e him to be l azy. Onemust serve Allah with one ' s weal th and sou l . He was worried. I fh i s wife were home he could discuss i t with her. Al l of his moneywas with his wife. All t ha t was l e f t in the house was enough foodfo r him u n t i l she got back. What could he c o n t r i b u t e to the bui ld ingo f Allah ' s house? Would he have to pass up the oppor tun i ty to do agood deed simply because his wife wasn ' t home? "Cer ta in ly not , " theold man thought. There was nothing wrong with h i s bra in ; i t was j u s ttha t habi tua l scolding from h i s wife had made him a f r a id to think.Thinking was d i f f i c u l t for an old man l i k e him.

He looked a t his house and yard, and stepped down from the porch.The sun shone on the wind-blown l eaves , i t s rays occas iona l ly f a l l i ngwarmly on his back. He was happy. He enjoyed the freedom of walkingamong the vegetables in his garden. I f his wife were home she wouldbe complaining.

She wasalways

quarrelsome when she saw him walkingaround the vegetables , al though i t was he who had plan ted them. Thepeacefu l ly flowing water of the r i ve r in back of his house wasenchant ing. I f his wife were home he wouldn ' t have the chance to beby the r i ve r for long. He never t i r e d of the r i ve r. I t was onlybecause she forbade i t tha t he was no longer f r i ends with the r i ve r.He would ca tch a cold He d i d n t even f i sh anymore. Rod f i sh ingwas l azy man's work. Sometimes h i s wife would order him to f i sh , notwith a hook and rod but with a ne t .

He stopped near the r i v e r s edge. In f ron t of him stood aj ack f ru i t t r e e . The huge t r e e was dead. The top was dry and not al ea f was l e f t on i t . "Exce l len t " he thought . "This wood i s per fec t

for the bui lding o f the s u r a u The yel low wood w i l l shine withoutp a i n t or po l i sh . Well, maybe j u s t a l i t t l e po l i sh . " nd the logwould be cu t by h i s own hands. I t would be good to k i l l t i m p t i c


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woman, how happy she would be. "Our wood was cont r ibu ted to thecons t ruc t ion of Allah ' s house, dear. " His wife would be happy andthank Allah. In the f i na l days o f t he i r l i ve s , they could s t i l l dogood deeds.

He had planted the t ree himself . I t was he who had f a i t h f u l l ywatered i t . I t had grown rap id ly. His f a t he r ordered him to climbi t whenever the f r u i t was r i pe . But the t r e e ' s death needn' t bemourned. I t s wood would occupy a place o f honor: the House ofAllah. Every day i t would be seen by people pra is ing the grea tnessof Allah and His Prophet . What a beaut i fu l way fo r a t ree to endi t s l i f e I t was fa r be t t e r than to end in a f i rep lace , espec ia l lyone where pagans cooked the forbidden re jeki Actual ly, i t was onlynatura l since the t r e e was f i r s t plan ted in the name of Allah. Ands ince his poverty wouldn ' t al low him to do another good deed, thet r e e was espec ia l ly va luab le to him--a j a c k f r u i t t ree planted by hisown hands, nurtured by his own hands, and fe l led by his own hands.He would prove his se rv ice to Allah, his Creator, with somethingenduring. For once in h i s l i f e he could cont r ibu te something to Him.

He thought about the t r ee a l l day--could he r ea l l y chop i t downhimself? The circumference was almost twice the span of his arms.I t was big- -not qui te two armlengths to enc i r c l e i t . He could chopi t , but did he have enough energy to f e l l i t ? Maybe he could h i r esomeone. But his wife had not l e f t him a cen t . Only r i c e andenough s ide dishes to l a s t u n t i l she came home. He couldn ' t payanyone, much l e s s feed him.

Real iz ing how big the t r ee was. he abandoned the plan to cu t i t

down himself .But

the re was a way. The branches tha t hed i d n ' t

need could be given to the woodcutter as wages. He wouldn ' t l o s eanything ~ x p t the mess from the twigs and branches. He was happy.He could imagine how his wife would pra ise h i s wisdom. This kindof good work was eve r l a s t i ng . His reward would l a s t u n t i l the logdecayed. In another week. when she re tu rned home, he would t e l lher. F i r s t , he would inv i t e her to walk in the yard and ask her toguess what was missing. "The j a ck f ru i t Where did i t go?" She wouldnever guess. "The surau dear. The House of Allah." She wouldsmile . No, i t ' s not necessary. Old people don ' t need kissesanymore." That would be the bes t way to inform Mrs. Quarrelsome

So he looked for a woodcutter. He promised tha t the branches

would be his wages. The yard would be clean and the ear th f la t tenedaga in . The woodcutter knew the old man's in ten t ions and refused toaccept any wages, but the old man i n s i s t ed and explained t h a t t waspa r t of the amaZ I t was proper t h a t the branches be shared amongneighbors .

Thus the robust woodcutter came to work in h i s yard. He ar r ivedvery ear ly, readied his axe, t i ed the ropes. and climbed the t r ee .The old man cou ldn ' t help in any way. He was unable to climb, nevermind t h a t h i s wife had forbidden him to , no matter how low the branch.He himself rea l ized t ha t his hands trembled and could no longer graspanything f i rmly. Climbing was dangerous; t could shorten h i s l i f e .


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He j u s t watched the woodcutter, h i s brown skin sparkl ing in the sun,the sound of the axe reverbera t ing . All the world could hear. PerhapsA l l a h ' s angels had a l ready noted what was happening tha t day. Everyecho of the axe was an echo of ama to the old man. He d i d n ' t haveto f ee l bad because he couldn ' t help. People knew he was old . I twas enough to supervise . The f i r s t day of work passed without hisphysical cont r ibu t ion .

The log would make him smile on the day of his death. Hisbody would be decayed in h i s grave by the ear th , but what was c learwas tha t the old t ree would become a testimony t h a t he had l ivedand cont r ibu ted to a surau I t was not people but Allah who wouldmake him happy. I f only he could prevent people from seeing i t :he wanted only Allah to know.

He watched as branch by branch f e l l from the t r e e . Jus t l i kepeople: one by one they died and were buried. But a f a l l en branchcould s t i l l be usefu l . I t could be used to provide f i r e for cookingo r warm those who were cold. What could dead people contr ibute?Not a th ing. In fac t , death burdened one ' s neighbors because theyhad to car ry one ' s coff in to the grave and bury i t .

The next day he began to help. The woodcutter had s t a r t ed tocut the t r e e ' s base. Twigs and branches were sca t te red everywhere.He wanted to gather them so t ha t the t r e e t runk could f a l l sa fe lywithout any obs tac les . The t r ee was now branchless and wouldtopple e a s i l y.

There was something e l s e he wanted to do. He thought of the

axe in the house, but i t had to be sharpened f i r s t . He brought outthe grinding s tone and a bucket of water. The woodcutter seeingwhat he intended to do forbade him, saying he was too old . But evena l i t t l e ch i ld could be t rus ted to sharpen and swing an axe! Whynot an old man? He would sweat j u s t car ry ing water from the wel l .He had a good axe, shiny and sharp- - i ron alone could withstand anaxe as sharp a s h i s . What kind o f a woodcutter i s th i s? He sayst h i s axe i s no good. When t comes to axes , no woodcut ter ' s goingto t e l l me tha t t h i s axe i s du l l . What woodcutter wouldn ' t want touse i t ? The old man had used axes since he was young. No doubtabout i t , t h i s axe was the sharpes t in the world.

This was the way he fought h i s old age. He swung his axe

vigorously, but his body shook v io l en t l y. This worried the wood-cu t t e r and he warned the old man tha t what was going to f a l l wouldbe his own body, not the t r e e . Besides, his axe d i d n ' t h i t i t st a rge t .

"Don' t swing the axe s t r a i g h t , old man. Hold i t a t an angle , "sa id the woodcutter.

"Al l r i gh t . Maybe he can teach me about woodcutting, but hewouldn't dare stop me from working."


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The old man would prove tha t he wasn' t lazy and did not have todepend on others . A l l ah ' s reward would lead him to heaven. And,there was no way tha t h i s wife could c a l l him l azy aga in . Look a this con t r ibu t ion : a yellow j a ck f ru i t t r e e , shining in the sun. Hewould be ab le to say, "The j a ck f ru i t t r e e was cut by my own hands."

He worked hard and without anyone ordering him. On the t h i rdday, he woke up very ea r ly. How happy he was to poin t to his workwhen the woodcutter a r r i ved . The axe had been swung s t rongly andhad l e f t a deep notch in the t r ee . The woodcutter sa id , Thewood must have been eaten by mosquitoes and not cu t by an axe ."He was mistaken.

How could mosquitoes ea t a j ack f ru i t t ree? Of course, i t wasan axe tha t did i t "

The woodcutter smiled. Come on, grandfa ther. Enough i senough. Leave i t to me.

No, i t was his own wood. I t was only proper tha t he shouldcut i t himself . The woodcut ter showed him how to chop proper ly.And how big the notch was becoming! The old man smiled. I t wasbecause his axe was sharp and he was s t i l l f resh . I f he had beenworking since morning.

Quit? No, never. His wife would be r i gh t i he did . Anyonewho wants to work i s not l azy. Don't judge a person by his outputbut ra ther by his i n t en t i ons . " And he fe rveren t ly wanted to cu t downthe j a ck f ru i t t r ee . What r ea l ly counts i s the i n t en t i on ! " Herepeated i t again. And remember, he s t a r t ed e a r l i e r than the wood-cu t t e r. And he expended more energy. The woodcutter sweated morebecause he drank a l o t . And anyway, i s work measured by the amounto f sweat? That r ea l ly wouldn ' t be f a i r . One could sweat withoutworking.

He wanted to ar range i t so t ha t only Allah would know he hadcontr ibuted the wood to the s u r a u He asked the woodcutter not torevea l h i s sec re t . A good ama i s when your r i gh t hand does i t ,but your l e f t hand doesn ' t see i t I t wasn' t necessary for anyoneto know. He and the woodcutter agreed tha t the log would appearsuddenly a t the cons t ruc t ion s i t e as i f i t had come from the sky.How clever! As long as tha t fussy woman wasn' t around, his bra inworked wonders. In the dark, when no one was around, the log wouldbe l e f t a t the s u r a u He would wri te on i t with charcoa l , A treefor Allah ." The sudden appearance of the log would su rp r i s e theneighborhood. And who would imagine tha t he was the anonymous donor?No one. Only Allah and His ange l s would know. Pr ide i s b e t t e rburied than revea led . Hidden pr ide makes people smile . Revealedpr ide makes people laugh. And a smile means more than a laugh.

He couldn ' t wait to br ing the t r ee down. He fo rgo t his oldage, his weight, and the amount of energy he had l e f t to spend.His mind was f i l l e d with a wonderful dream. Sweat poured from h i sbody. The woodcutter caut ioned him. Ah, a t h i s age he needn--'-!:_J:>L---

_ _ _ __._-_. __ _- -_ _ -


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reminded about anything by anyone. No, ne i ther h i s wife nor the wood-cu t t e r had any r i gh t to hold him back. Only his own mind guided him.Good must be done, no matter what the consequences. He knew what hecould and could not do. He had every r i gh t to l i ve his own l i f e . I t

was too bad his body cou ldn ' t support his in ten t ions . At midday,sweating heav i ly, he fa in ted .

When he regained consciousness many people were gathered aroundhim. The old man was annoyed. No, he was a l l r i gh t . "Go, i t i s n tanything. I was j u s t a b i t sleepy, why did you come?" Then theywent home.

My God, the woodcutter must have revealed his plans to thepeople who came.

"No. grandfa ther. "

"Well, good for you."

"But your secre t wi l l be revealed i f you work any more. I f youf a in t again, people wil l come back and t h e y l l ask what the wood i sfo r. " So the woodcutter suggested tha t he r e s t .

"All r i g h t , " he agreed. I t was for the be t t e r.

After tha t he d idn ' t touch the wood again. Everything was l e f tto the woodcutter. The t r ee crashed down, and the woodcutter trimmedi t to make a yellow-golden beam. The old man d i d n ' t regre t tha t hecouldn ' t help in the work. He had t r i e d . What was important now

was tha t he had planned everything. I t had required experience, andhe was the one who had to make the plan. The phys ica l work couldbe t rus ted to the woodcutter; tha t was his job. The old man wasj u s t a l i t t l e disappointed t ha t he wouldn ' t be ab le to say tha t hehad personal ly vanquished the golden gian t . Let i t be. Much remainedto be done with the log--pushing i t to the r i v e r s edge and sendingi t downstream.

The old man wanted to f l o a t the log downstream in the eveninga f t e r the sun had s e t . They could l eave i t on the eas t bank andear ly the next morning the woodcutter could come with a pushcart .Very ear ly, so tha t no humans, Allah ' s c rea tures , would see them.

The sky was red in the west t ha t af ternoon. Clouds hid the sun,but a br igh t red glow shone through a crack and invaded the sky. Thetwo men t r i ed to r o l l the log to the edge of the r i ve r. They bothpushed i t with l a rge s t i cks . I t l e f t scratches i n the ear th . Frequent ly the old man could be heard to say. "Excel lent " At everyadvancement. he sang "Ana n ayo irzg l Push Now Very good.Rest awhile ."

The sun was gone, l eav ing only the red color in the sky. Prayingtime, but tha t could wai t . The two men entered the water. Therewasn ' t any problem there. Both o f them were country ch i ld ren who had


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played in water since t h e i r mothers had f i r s t bathed them. A shimmering red r e f l ec t i on appeared in the water, then disappeared. Ther i ve r water was the calmest the old man had ever seen i t . He waswet up to his stomach. The yellow beam f loa ted l e i su re ly on thesur face o f the water. Their hands di rec ted i t s course. Theymaneuvered i t around the cu r r en t .

They came to the qu ie t e s t pa r t of the v i l l age . There was no oneto see them. Chi ldren ' s voices could be heard in the dis tance ."Allah, don ' t l e t those chi ldren come to the r iver This log i s onlyfor You. Oh no, t hey ' r e coming toward the r iver What i s br ing ingthem down here a t t h i s t ime of the evening? They cer ta in ly a r e n ' tvery well-behaved.

I The chi ldren gathered along the s ide of ther i ve r and watched. They asked quest ions. Oh, no They undressedand jumped in the water. The old man was confused. He chided thech i ld ren : I t ' s a l ready dark, go home."

IIWe want to r i de on the log , grandpa,1I they c r i ed .Naughty chi ldren Water splashed everywhere. Head, ha i r, ears ,

h i s whole body was splashed. I t was as cold as ice water. Thech i ld ren were j ub i l an t . All r i g h t , as long as they don ' t ask whati t ' s for Should he chase them away? No.

They clambered onto the log . I t bobbed in the water. The oldman wondered why he d i d n ' t j o in them. The woodcutter could guide i tin the r i gh t d i r ec t i on and he could r i de . He suppressed the urge toac t l i ke a chi ld . I t would make them laugh. The ch i ld ren sprayedhis body with water, and he r e t a l i a t e d . The r i ve r became noisy. Inthe dark the noise was l i k e the voices o f devi l s in the bushes. The

splashing water drowned out the ordinary night voices- - the gent leand cont inuous c r i e s and c a l l s of animals . Those sounds a l te rna tedwith the sound o f water and the ch i ld ren ' s shouts . But never mind,what was important was t ha t he kept the sec re t from the ch i ld ren .

I t wasn' t for you t ha t I cut the t r ee , grandchi ldren.

As i f changing the sub j ec t , the old man t r i ed to f r igh ten themwith hin ts of a coming f lood . IILook, how overcast i t i s . You ' l lge t washed away in the f lood i f you s tay here.

I

l i l t ' s okay, grandpa. tole want to see the ocean,1I they laughed.

What could you do with these naughty v i l l age chi ldren? Hereca l led tha t he was l i k e tha t when he was small . Old people arefo rg ivers and the ch i ld ren ' s presence made him happy. Theyevent ua l ly got bored and returned t o the r iverbank, put on the i rc lo thes , and ran i n to the darkness of the t r ee s .

When the red glow of the water and sky had complete ly disappeared, they reached a place near the road to the v i l l age . Theyanchored there . t wasn ' t t d i f f i c u l t to bank the log. Whatgood was a man i f he cou ldn ' t handle a piece of wood? They pul ledthe log eas i l y up over the sand with a rope. Well, now, the logl ay there motionless on the sand a t the r i v e r ' s edge as i f i t would


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never be moved again. "Exce l len t , sa id the old man. "Don't fo rge t .Tomorrow morning before the ea r ly morning prayer. Come with a ca r talong tha t road." They l e f t the log there on the so f t sand. Goodbye, log. Unti l tomorrow morning."

The old man went home and prepared dinner. How de l ic ious foodwas a f t e r a day of hard work. How happy are those who work hard. Hewas ecs t a t i c . The j a ck f ru i t t r ee was beached on the r iverbank. "Eat ,man, ea t as much as you can " Soon he grew sleepy. His body wascool and refreshed. When the body i s t i r ed , sleep i s comfortable.He f e l l asleep thinking of the surau the beam of wood, the woodcutter,his wife, the chi ldren , the r i ve r. He smiled as he closed his eyes.

He remembered the plan j u s t before he f e l l asleep: he must wakeup very ear ly and go s t r a igh t to the r i ve r where he would wait forthe woodcutter who would come with the ca r t . They would push theca r t together, and before people were up the log would already be a t

the construct ion s i t e of the surau. The f i r s t person to see i t wouldbe surpr i sed : Where did t h i s log come from?" But only Allah andHis angels could give an answer. Sleep, man, sleep

The night was cold and damp. The slow swishing of the r ivercould be heard. The fami l ia r sounds of night animals were everywhere-on the ear th , in the grass , in the water, in the t rees , in the a i rThe t rees bowed in the darkness . I t was these l i v ing th ings tha tdefined the night . Quiet , cool leaves bowed, as i f the world werean overgrown h i l l tha t had been forgot ten .

The old man woke up a t the appointed hour. Old men could dotha t . Wrapped in his sarong he stepped outs ide knowing there wouldn ' tbe anyone there to see him. He knew his v i l l age well . He reached ther iverbank eas i ly. "My j a ck f ru i t log, I l l be seeing you very soon."

There was a noise. What was i t ? Oh, the ca r t r a t t l i n g Thewoodcutter was a l i t t l e ca re l e s s . "Careful , don ' t wake up anyone."He was glad tha t the r a t t l i n g d idn ' t l a s t long. He s t i l l reproachedhim, but i t wasn' t r ea l ly the woodcut ter ' s f a u l t No matter howcarefu l one was, a ca r t would sure ly be noisy on tha t rocky, windingroad. Good, the re weren ' t any sounds of people up and around. Thisplace would be quie t u n t i l people rose to fe tch water from the r iverto wash or bathe i n . Since get t ing on in years the old man couldn ' tstand the cold r i ve r water in the morning. I f he had been a smallch i l d he would have swum in the r i ve r t ha t morning.

He thought of his wife. I f she were a t home, she would be wakinghim up now. "Pray, Hoslem. Allah i s wait ing for you. May He giveyou long l i f e and good hea l th . That morning he f e l t very heal thy.He wasn' t even a l i t t l e cold. I t was probably because of his sarongYes, but a lso , h i s happiness erased any fee l ings of cold or anythinge lse The log was more important than the cold.

He imagined the surau and where the log from his yard would beplaced. Surely, people would spend much time in the surau. Actual ly,i t was nothing spec ia l . The wood came from Allah ' s ear th , and now i t


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was re turned to Him. When the old man was smal l , he of ten playednear the j a ck f ru i t t ree . The branches were once good for c l imbing.Now, the t ree had become a beam. Surely, the yellow co lor had shonethrough the night

When the people discovered the log , he would be home smoking hispipe . He would smoke for a long time. Yes, the log was from hisyard, but they wouldn ' t know. The log might be cut in to smallerpieces . Or maybe i t would be be t t e r to cut l a rge pieces for the fourmain p i l l a r s . They could do whatever they wanted, because once thelog l e f t his hands he d i d n t have any r i gh t s to i t .

I f he had anything e l se , he would take i t to the sur u too, butthe re were only a c lu s t e r of bamboo and some vegetables i n h i s yard.He would f e e l ashamed to r e t u rn so l i t t l e to Allah.

He reached the road near the edge of the vi l lage and went down

the path to the r i ve r. Late r they would have to push the log up th i ss lope , but he had a l o t o f energy a f t e r a good n igh t ' s s leep . Thec a r t approached and descended the path to the r i ve r. He wanted toge t there f i r s t , so he walked f a s t e r. He wanted to look a t the logfor a while to say goodbye. In the darkness the re a t the r i ve r s ide

t was l i ke the f i na l ceremony before so ld i e r s l e f t for the b a t t l e -f i e l d . Or l i ke a bur i a l . "Stupid Forgetful You forgot the char-coa l to wri te on the log. S tup id " Return? That would be worse.Forgetfulness was the downfall o f mankind He h i t his head. "Nottoo hard or you ' l l be dizzy. grandpa. Let t be ."

The sky was s t i l l dark. In a l i t t l e while i t would be dawn.Soon i t would be time fo r the ea r l y morning prayer. The ea r th underhis f ee t was cool and because i t was c lose to the r i ve r, i t was damp.He continued on his way. Behind him the c a r t got c loser. Hear r ived a t the opening in the bushes. This was the r iverbank. Hecouldn ' t see c l ea r ly because o f the darkness . He wiped his eyes,rubbing them u n t i l they were c l ea r. But i t was s t i l l dark. Indeed,i t was too dark. Oh, old eyes , old eyes.

The log wasn' t anywhere i n s igh t . Where was i t ? His eyes. Thewoodcutter ar r ived . Something must have happened. The ca r t stoppednear the s ide of the r i v e r. Come here . " he ca l led . But i t wasd i f f i c u l t for the old man to ge t c lose to the edge. The ground wastoo so f t . The ea r t h was cold. Where was the log? Must they wait fordawn? All r i gh t . i i t had to be t ha t way. They j u s t stood the re .They couldn ' t see i t .

"Where's the log . woodcutter?"

"Where's the log . g randfa ther?"

I t was not the re . When the f i r s t glow of dawn appeared in thesky, they knew the log was gone. There was debr i s along the bankso f the r i ve r. Look. look No use. I t was c lea r, the re had beena flood during the nigh t . The log had been washed away. "AllahDid t go back to You?


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The old man and the woodcutter stood the re . Something had beenl o s t .

"No, nothing was l o s t , sa id the old man.

The woodcutter turned the ca r t around. "Grandfather, l e t ' s gohome."

The old man stood a moment longer, then he smiled. "Did i tre turn to You, Allah?"

NOT

1. A song used to crea te a ce r t a in tempo so t ha t people working inunison wi l l have the exac t same t iming.


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Original Ti t l e : Burung Kecil Bersarang d i PohonSource Horison March 1971Author KuntowidjojoTrans la tor Joan Suyenaga

N ST IN A TR

The old man made sure t ha t nothing would s o i l his c lo thes . I twas Friday noon, and the sun was br igh t over the roof of his house.I t was time to go to the mosque. Today he had to give the sermonand be the imam I t was a long walk, but he d i d n t mind. Therewas a poss ib i l i t y t ha t h i s c lo thes would get dus ty during the walk,and he f e l t tha t would de t r ac t from the hol iness of the occasion.He wanted very much f o r Allah to see him immaculate when he knel tthere in His house. I t was only because he knew t ha t Allah hadseen his c lo thes and knew his in ten t ion to keep them clean tha t hewas wil l ing to r i s k going through the marketplace. He was dresseda l l in whi te - -h i s piai h i s s h i r t . Only his sarong was s t r ipedwith gold threads. There was a prayer scar f over his shoulder. I twas the proper a t t i r e for the holy day.

Whenever he passed the market he f e l t uneasy. I f i t weren tto shorten the dis tance and avoid the commotion o f the main s t r e e the wouldn t have gone through the place. He looked a t the t raderswith indignat ion. Could these people have forgot ten Allah? Theywere always in a hurry, had greedy faces and wild looks. MoneyHow d i f f e r en t they were from what he wanted them to be.

His serene walk, c lean face, and peaceful composure were cont ra ryto the bus t le of the market . He was absorbed in thought. He couldn t


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help th inking, "Don' t they have even a l i t t l e t ime to th ink aboutt h e i r Creator? He doesn ' t ask much, j u s t one hour on Friday, l i k etoday." He f ingered the l i t t l e copy of the Holy Book in h i s pocket,as i f to c l ing to the eso t e r i c . "Keep me from being ungra te fu l ,Al lah , " he prayed. He wanted to t e l l them, "Jus t one hour, bro thers .

One hour for Him who crea ted the sky and the ear th "

Why did they objec t? I t was beyond his imaginat ion, even as aprofessor o f tauhid Or was i t because he taught a t a univers i tyt h a t he couldn ' t unders tand such a l i f e ? Leaving the univers i ty fo rone hour d i d n t mean much to him, but leaving the market--how muchmoney would these people lose? Never the less , he couldn ' t excuse themfor t h e i r i n f i d e l i t y. I t was c l ea r to him tha t the awareness ofAllah made humans d i f f e r en t from other crea tures . And tha t awarenessmust be demonstrated through a c t i o n . Allah Himself had prescr ibedsome of these a c t i o n s . Truly, the merchants had fo rgo t ten Allah.But obviously, He had forgiven them. They were hea l thy, had ch i ld ren ,were a l ive and happy. I f Allah could forgive them, why should heconcern himself?

Now i f he were the merchant and saw someone in white c lo thescalmly walking through the hubbub while he was s e l l i n g his merchandiseo r counting money, perhaps he would wonder: "White c lo thes in themarketplace? How foo l i sh . Why i s he s t r o l l i n g ? Doesn ' t he workduring the day? Lazy bum. Oh, he must be going to the mosque.Ah, i t s use less and a waste of t ime. Empty peacefulness in anasylum ca l led a mosque "

He s ighed. This thought dis tu rbed him. And he sa id to himself :"Allah, keep me from the e v i l o f s p i r i t s and man." But he d i d n t

have the hear t to curse them, because they d i d n t unders tand. Theyj u s t d i d n t know. "Oh, Allah, please forgive them." When he waspas t the marketplace , he was r e l i e v e d to f ind his c lo thes s t i l lc lean . There wasn ' t a speck of dus t on them.

He reached a quie t sec t ion of the c i t y - - s e v e r a l c lu s t e r s ofhouses, an empty f i e l d . and t r e e s . There was a pa th through theopen f i e l d . Here and the re the t r e e s would shade him from the sun.Although the day was hot . the grass made him f e e l f resh . He l ikedto walk through the f i e l d because the green t r e e s and grass gavehim a peaceful fee l ing . I t was very appropr ia te fo r the journey tothe house of God.

Suddenly he s t a r t e d . He had spent too much t ime th inking ofthe market people , t r e e s , empty l and , and the sun ins tead of r e c i t i ngprayers . He began to pray, but thoughts o f the marketplace re turnedto bother him. Those market people . Why d o n ' t they thank Allah?But, on the other hand, Why must Allah take them away from t h e i rwork? Doesn ' t He th ink about His servants? Doesn ' t He l i k e to seepeople i n the markets , in workshops, in the s t r e e t s ? I s i t r ea l l ynecessary for them to l eave work and go to the mosque?" He wasconfused. He f e l t in h i s pocket fo r the Holy Book again. I t hadbeen easy for Allah to crea te men, but t was d i f f i c u l t for men toremember Him. Pray, pray. He remembered how he reassured people


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about Him in h i s sermons. n old man. small in bu i ld and en thus i a s t i c ,he could i n s p i r e his l i s t e n e r s . He was embarrassed to face God.How strange were these thoughts . Why were they coming to him now?I t was a weakness for a professor o f tauhid He had at tended manypondok he had gone to the Holy Land. and had s tayed in the Prophe t ' sc i t y for some t ime. I t was not a meaningless journey for a pious man.but he must be more devout as he grew older. He remembered aga in .as i f i t were j u s t yes te rday. seeing the Ka'bah.

His thoughts bothered him, and he no longer f e l t peacefu l . Thewind rus t led the t r e e s , shaking the leaves and cas t ing shadows onthe grass . The road was deser ted . He should have asked a f r i end tocome along so tha t they could cha t along the way. No, he was r i gh tto be alone; he had to r e c i t e his prayers , not t a l k . on his way tothe mosque. Why cha t , i f what Allah wanted was prayer? Why dwellon s t range things t h a t d ive r t h i s concen t ra t ion on the Creator? Hemopped his brow and a drop of p e r s p i r a t i o n f e l l on his s h i r t . He

wanted to throw o ff h i s worries j u s t ashe

had wiped o ff the sweaton his forehead. He longed for peace. For as long as he couldremember he had wished only for peace of mind. Unt i l now, he hadbeen peacefu l . But the market! He could s t i l l hear the commotion.Then he remembered t h a t Allah a l so made men dependent on food.Going to the mosque was easy, but could he do the work of thesepeople? Perhaps i f he d i d n t teach a t the un ive r s i t y. he wouldn ' tbe able to go to the mosque during the day e i t h e r . His l i v e l i h o o ddepended on his univers i ty. With sudden c l a r i t y he rea l ized howwrong his judgement had been. I f he d i d n t go to the mosque andwasn ' t pious he would be f i r ed from the u n i v e r s i t y and would probablynever be able to work aga in . The market, the fac tory, the workshop,the r i c e f i e l d s - -he looked a t his th in white hands. He cou ldn ' t

even unfurl the sarong merchandise the way the market people didwhen he passed them a while ago. Clear ly, he could never work asthey did.

We can c lose a un ive r s i t y and s t i l l be prosperous, but we c a n tc l o s e the market , the workshop. o r the fac tory. But why then did hef e e l so super io r when he passed the market? Simply because he wasgoing to the mosque and the others weren ' t ? He had been very care fu lpicking h i s way through t as though the market were f i l t h y. He wasca r e f u l , f e a r fu l t ha t the merchants ' ind i ffe rence to Al lah woulds t a i n his c lo thes . That was c r u e l . he thought . He f e l t he hadi n s u l t e d them. I f Allah. the Great Judge, allowed them to be sa feand sound. why did he disda in them?

He looked a t his s h i r t . s t i l l as whi te as when he had s t a r t e d .This was proof of how he had t r ea ted the market people . His obsess ion with c l e a n l i n e s s was based in s in . I t was more than guardingh i s c lo thes ; he d i d n t want to be touched by the market people .Supposing t h a t he were the t rader- -wouldn ' t he be offended? Wouldhe go to the mosque? He could answer very complicated ques t ions inh i s f i e l d . but t h i s one was d i f f i c u l t even fo r him. He wiped h i sforehead; sweat and d i r t s tuck to the embroidered handkerchief t h a th i s wife had made. A yel low l e a f f e l l on his shou lder ; he shook i tand i t f e l l to t h e ground.


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He wanted to re turn to the market. WhY he d i d n ' t know. Tobeg for forgiveness or to t e l l them something. He must preach Allah ' smessage to them u n t i l they f e l t compelled to leave the market for awhile and go to the mosque. He must del iver the message But how?He had to go to the mosque. Allah, i t i s Your decision. He couldv i s i t the market l a t e r in the day a f t e r he re turned home. But he wasworried: Would they l i s t e n to him? Well. whether they did or not ,i t d idn ' t matter to him. At l e a s t he would have del ivered Allah ' smessage. I f they d i d n ' t go to the mosque, t was not Allah ' s l o s s .

But then he thought: I f He d idn ' t lose anything by i t , why didHe want them to go the mosque? He d idn ' t need anything, did He?Forgive me, Allah, but are You in need of praise? No, no. I t i sYour r i gh t , for we are only Your servants . Truly, se rv i tude can onlybecome glor ious i f i t i s offe red to You. But the merchants, who dothey serve? Their own needs, perhaps. But then, who provides forthem i f not they themselves? For my subsis tence you have provided me

with the job a t the univers i ty. For these people, i t i s the markettha t provides for them. The market wi l l not give them money, i f theyleave i t . I s n ' t i t too much for You to demand tha t they go to themosque? I t i s too much, Allah. They wouldn ' t have to go i f Youd idn ' t require them to , would they? And those who are suffer ing-beggars and a l l the poor common people--must they a lso come to You?

He f e l t as i f hi:; hear t had melted. and his persp i ra t ion was thel iqu id of his heart . He forgave the market people and everyone e lsetha t Friday noon. I t was t he i r choice. He must pac i fy his thoughtsor e l s e his sermon would be confused. He prayed, hoping he wouldn ' tthink of the market people again when he stood a t the speaker ' splatform. His s t rength for prayer returned. But, he heard someoneweeping and he stopped. Who was crying?

Under a tamarind t r ee , there was a boy looking upward. Whenthe old man looked a t him, the chi ld pointed to the top of the t r ee .The t ree was t a l l and dense, and i t was cool beneath i t s branches.What i s i t , boy?" he asked. The blue sky, in la id with s i l v e r sunrays,

hurt his eyes when he looked up a t the l imbs of the t ree . Hesquinted. What i s i t ? he asked, stroking the c h i l d ' s head. Thechi ld pointed.

"Bird," he sa id .

Oh, yes. I hear i t . I t ' s a small bi rd , grandchild."

The boy was young enough to have been his grandch i ld . He lookeda t him for a long t ime. The c h i l d ' s eyes were ex t r ao rd ina r i l y c l ea r.He knew what the boy wanted. Be quie t . and don ' t c ry, " he sa id .The chi ld stopped crying. He looked up and saw a b i r d ' s nes t amongthe leaves on top of a branch. He remembered when he was a naughtyyoung boy as small as t h i s ch i ld . He. too, had l iked b i rd s . Hehad gone from one neighborhood to another in pursu i t of them. Thehunt had been even more sa t i s fy ing than owning the bi rds .


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Once he had taken care of a bi rd h i s fa ther had brought himfrom the market. His f a t he r had re tu rned from a long business t r i pwith a loaded horse car ry ing a b i r d nes t . He had been very happy.He had smiled the same smile t h a t was on his l i p s now. But hec o u l d n ' t leap and skip anymore. The ch i ld saw him smile . He hadplayed with h i s thrush then. Yes, i t had been a thrush. He wantedvery much for the l i t t l e boy to f e e l what he had f e l t years ago andto see the boy as happy as his fa ther had seen him. How had h i sown fa ther f e l t when he had given him the bi rd? He looked a t thec h i l d s tanding near him and said,IIWait, boy." The bi rd ch i rped .His hear t s t i r r e d a s he thought about ca tch ing i t . He f e l t almosthappy, a d i f f e r en t so r t of happiness from the kind he had f e l t j u s tbefore . Something t h a t had been buried in him rose aga in . He wasabsorbed with the happiness of the pas t . The charming l i t t l e boygazed upward with his mouth open.

When the old man thought about c l imbing the t r e e he panicked.

The white c lo thes he was wearing for the day reminded him of h i smission. But the happiness he f e l t and h i s urge to ca tch the bi rdsuppressed those thoughts . He s l ipped h i s sanda l s o f f removed h i ss ca r f , folded his sarong, and ascended the t r e e . I t was a s k i l lt h a t had been long fo rgo t ten , but the t r e e was not too d i f f i c u l t fo rhim to climb. In his chi ldhood, he had been a brave cl imber. Theboy below was over joyed; he screamed and poin ted to the nes t . Theyboth laughed, but the o ld man had to be very ca r e fu l . The yel lowl eaves dr i f t ed down around him l ike r a i n blown by the wind. Heperched comfortably on a branch near the t r e e t runk. One more moveand he could reach the nes t , but he l iked s i t t i n g the re .

He looked a t the ground beneath him: the view from the t r e e was

qui te d i f f e r en t from the view a t ground l eve l . The sky opened upabove him. The c h i l d screamed from below--an express ion of uncer ta injoy. The baby bi rds c r i ed , probably because they were hungry.Where was t h e i r mother? "There , " he sa id , as he saw a bi rd passabove h i s head. He seemed to be in a world o f b i r d s , surrounded byb i rd s . The mother bi rd a l igh ted on a branch. He looked a t her."Yes, I am the one who w i l l s t e a l your chi ldren. F i r s t thebaby bi rds must be taken, then, he would look fo r a way to cap tu rethe mother. I t would not be d i f f i c u l t to c a t c h them, as he wasolder and smarter. Even when he was smal l , he could do i t .

He ca l led to the ch i l d below: "Get a b i r d cage, boy. QuicklyHe would put the baby b i rd s in to the cage, and then he would ca tcht h e i r mother and put her with them. The mother bi rd was nervous .She had yellow fea thers and a gray body--a th rush , l i k e the one hehad a long time ago. No i t was not the very same bi rd re tu rn ingnow but another one. He looked in to the dis tance . How b e a u t i f u lthe world was There, f a r away, was a range o f blue h i l l s .

After crawling a long a l imb he reached the bi rd n e s t . He sawtw l i t t l e bi rds with t rembl ing fea thers

in the surau

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