Our Friendship

20

The day was serene, the soft hum of life echoing through the university campus. As Ayatullah and his friends, Khadija and Ummi, made their way to Fatahurrahman's office, they were met with an unexpected sight. Fatahurrahman, their elusive teacher, was nowhere to be found. It turned out that he had gone to the mosque for the Zuhr prayer.

From a distance, they watched him approach with an air of majesty, as though he dared not soil his feet on the ground. As Fatahurrahman drew near, they greeted him with warmth. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked, his smile gracing them.

Khadija, ever the optimist, smiled back and replied, "Indeed, we were."

Fatahurrahman raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to ponder. "Alright then, come in," he gestured, opening the door to his office.

He ushered them in and offered them seats. Then, as he opened the windows and settled behind his desk, he inquired, "What brings you here today? What happened?"

Ummi adjusted herself, her voice measured and sincere. "It's about what transpired earlier between you and our friend," she began, casting a meaningful look at Ayatullah. "Please, sir, forgive him. He truly regrets his actions."

Fatahurrahman regarded her with genuine surprise. He hadn't realized the depth of their friendship. Before he could respond, Khadija chimed in, "Please, sir, forgive him as well."

Fatahurrahman cleared his throat, taking in this unexpected show of unity. "Why isn't your friend saying anything? He made the mistake, yet you're the ones apologizing," he observed, his tone now more serious.

Ummi turned her gaze towards Ayatullah, urging him to speak. He pocketed his phone and looked up at Fatahurrahman, his voice heavy with remorse. "I'm deeply sorry, sir. I made a grave mistake, one that I sincerely regret."

Fatahurrahman couldn't help but smile at the earnestness in Ayatullah's words. "I find it perplexing that a diligent student like you would befriend someone less committed to their studies," he remarked, glancing at them both.

Ummi interjected, determined to clarify the situation. "Sir, he's actually quite serious about his studies. It's just that he prefers not attending lectures," she explained.

Fatahurrahman's smile persisted as he responded, "Alright, I understand. He's your friend, and you vouch for him. But ensure that he improves his attendance record, or else I will have to reveal another side of me," he warned, his tone lightening.

As they left his office, Ayatullah couldn't help but shoot a cold glare at Fatahurrahman. Their conversation had been far from the confrontational standoff he had anticipated.

Ayatullah felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of his two friends, Khadija and Ummi. He hadn't realized how much they valued him, despite their initial fears and reservations.

His heart was filled with a different kind of anxiety, though. He pondered the question that had been haunting him for some time now: which of the two friends he cherished so dearly held his heart? It was a riddle he hadn't yet solved.

Suddenly, an idea struck him like lightning. He quickly logged into Twitter and searched for the person he truly loved. There it was, a confirmation that his heart longed for-the same person he had been communicating with on Twitter. A rush of happiness overwhelmed him.

Later, while Ayatullah was engrossed in chatting with his Saudi student friends on WhatsApp, his brother, Jabir, entered the room. His voice carried frustration as he scolded Ayatullah for his recent actions. "After making Dad go through all that trouble to get you admitted, this is how you repay him? By skipping lectures?"

Ayatullah put his phone down and faced his brother, remorse in his eyes. "I'm truly sorry, but you're misunderstanding. Fatahurrahman lied about me."

"What did you just say? Fatahurrahman lied? Isn't he your teacher? I don't want to hear such words from you. Besides, I saw you with my own eyes, or perhaps it's your secret twin?" Jabir retorted, his voice sharp.