NO TIME TO CRY

'Kak Luna, if you go out please help me buy some food for iftar. Rakha is alone in the boarding house.'

Dewi, text.

I looked at the clock on the wall, 10 o'clock. Geez... she hadn't broken her fast yet.

I put my phone down, got the rice and side dishes and put them in the lunchbox, and went out straight away.

Dewi is an acquaintance from the same group as me, Lena, and Ariana, under Farida's mentor. It's only been a week since she moved in with her only son, who is still in kindergarten.

Dewi used to live in a luxury apartment with her Korean expatriate husband. She ran away from home because of her husband's mistreatment. Rakha, her only child, is now a bone of contention between the husband and wife.

Dewi's room is located on the second floor where the stairs have no handrail. That's why Dewi doesn't dare to leave Rakha alone, even if it's just to go to the stall to buy food.

"Thank you... kaak" She greeted me as I opened the door and accepted the food I had brought.

I found Raka sleeping.

I sat on the mattress on the floor. My eyes swept the 3x4 square meter room.

"What is this, Wi?" I asked, seeing two large plastic bags in the corner of the room.

"Underwear, kak" She replied while grabbing the package. "Just look, it's nice". Dewi took out the contents of a large black crackle bag, BH, CD, Lingerie, and Bikini, with a variety of colors and motifs, there are polka dots, flowers, lace, and there are sporty, all beautiful and sexy.

"Aaihhhhh... so cute! I grabbed the items, immediately wanting more. "Are you selling?" I continued

Dewi nodded

"Reseller, I took them from Tanah Abang, Kak. With a friend. Tempo." She said as if reading my next question.

"Where was it sold?" I asked again

"Blok M."

"Did you open a stall there?"

"No, kak, I offer it to entertainment places like karaoke in that area, to the employees during their break time. Here, I just took it again. This surely will be gone tomorrow."

"How do you carry it?"

"Just carry it like this..." Dewi held the two bags with both hands "By bus."

I was still examining the stitching of the items, neat and pretty, like a boutique release.

I secretly admire this woman. She moved on so quickly, just a week out of her luxurious apartment and stranded in this narrow space, now she has started a business.

Even though I have also wanted to run a business for a long time, but until now I am still confused.

I imagined her tiny little body carrying such a big bag on a bus to sell from door-to-door karaoke places in Blok M.

"You're great, Wi. You moved on so fast." I complimented her. "You don't seem to have any sadness."

Dewi paused for a moment "I'm sad, kak. But what else. Children need milk." She said flatly "Where is Rakha's milk also expensive." She continued.

"I guess you don't like crying either, Wi?" I was still curious.

"Cry? Well, I didn't get the chance to cry, kak. I think the tears have run out too."

I fell silent.

"What about Rakha? I feel sorry for him. Isn't it better for him to stay with his father? His education is guaranteed. You can also work more freely." I suggested.

"With his father? I'm worried that he's brought back to Korea. WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO HIS AQIDAH?"*)

Like Sponge Bob's balloon that was removed from its axis, it immediately shrank and flew back and forth in an uncertain direction. I really didn't expect that answer to come out of her mouth, a woman who prefers tight jeans and long-sleeved shirts rolled up to below the elbow and always looks sexy, understands about aqidah. I felt so small.

"That's why he didn't go to school. Last week the school reported that his father was waiting for him at school. That's why I will transfer to another school"

I didn't blink as I watched this woman tell her story, accustomed to living a comfortable life so far did not make her complacent and spoiled. When the turn of life requires her to work, she immediately works.

She would just sell things, whatever she could do. She doesn't use long plans, and doesn't bother thinking about vision and mission strategy swot analysis, and so on. No complaints or lamentations were heard during my time with her.

She didn't even have time to cry.

***

That afternoon I overheard my mother's conversation with her guest in the living room.

It turned out to be Murni, the daughter of my mother's friend who had passed away, and she already considered my mother as her own mother. I myself am not very familiar, only to the extent of knowing her.

From the conversation, I knew that she had two children who were now with her.

The children's father left home and sold their house without her knowledge. Now Murni and her son were evicted from their own house in Karawang, then they returned home, now renting and starting a new life selling meatballs.

Murni came to borrow additional capital to sell her meatballs. My mother offered for her children to go to a boarding school because she had some acquaintances who owned a Pesantren.*)

But Murni did not immediately agree, she said she would ask her children first. There was no sobbing in the living room. Or maybe it was the same case as Dewi,

that Murni's tears had run out.

or she has no time to cry.

**

Humans can only try, God determines the results.

I haven't even talked about business opportunities of PNB to Murni, I got the news, sad news from the village

Budhe who was sick with Nasoforing cancer passed away.

Innalilahi wa inna ilaihi rojiuun....

I was devastated by Budhe's death. But I couldn't cry. It's hard for me to describe my feelings in words, it was so intense to meet her while she was being treated for alternative medicine in Jakarta that our hearts bonded so strongly.

I remember how her face felt happy every time she saw Farida and me coming. He had so much hope that his illness would be cured. But reality said otherwise.

Age is His secret. No matter how expensive or how powerful the medicine is, if the time has come, no one can hold it back. That is destiny. There is no use of all human power and effort without His permission.

A month after her mother's departure, Tuti, Budhe's daughter, and her husband came to the house, handing over the remaining payments from the products that were still lacking. Ten million rupiah from the sale of his motorcycle.

I didn't know what to do.

I wanted to let it go, but where should I find the money to cover it? Meanwhile, I swiped all credit cards to buy health products for mothers who were still recovering.

I received the money with some trepidation and handed it over to Farida because the products used belonged to her. However, after that, I lost my passion.

Many people have succeeded in this business, and many people have been cured of their illnesses with the products. But my experience was a different story.

Death is His destiny. Nothing to do with medicine, products, or anything else. But, how am I supposed to convince people when I myself am so insecure... This is pure 'my problem'

Since then my passion for this business has died.

***

*)Tanah Abang is a famous market that consists of a large collection of shops and stalls selling clothing, textiles, and religious goods.

*)Aqidah is the main point of teaching that must always be in the mind of a Muslim. From there was born the meaning of a strong belief

*) Pesantren is a traditional Islamic educational institution in which students live together and study under the guidance of a teacher who is better known as a kyai and has a dormitory for students to stay in