It was late at night in the small, poor village in Bantul, Yogyakarta. The clock showed 10 PM. The whole village was already dead asleep. The only sounds were the loud chorus of crickets singing in the endless green rice fields and the occasional barking of a stray dog far away.
Inside the small house made of half red brick and half woven bamboo, Mr. Poniman and Mrs. Warsinah were already preparing to sleep on their thin mattresses. Sri was in her small room, separated only by a thin plywood wall, video calling with Bahadir from Istanbul.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on their wooden front door. _Knock... knock... knock..._
"Excuse me... Mr. Poniman! Mrs. Warsinah! Are you still awake? It's me!" a familiar, deep voice called from outside.
Mr. Poniman quickly got up, put on his old traditional cloth, and opened the door. Standing in front of his house, under the dim light of a single yellow bulb, was the village head, Mr. Suryo. He was a kind, respected man in his fifties, wearing a traditional patterned shirt and a black cap. But tonight, his face looked very sad, very tired, and very worried.
"Ah, Mr. Suryo, the village head! Please, please come in, sir! It's so late at night. What brings you here so late?" Mr. Poniman said, surprised and a little worried. He quickly invited the village head to sit on the low wooden bench in their small living room.
Mrs. Warsinah also came out quickly, fixing her simple house dress, looking worried. Sri peeked from behind her thin plywood wall, her heart beating fast.
The village head sat down and took a deep breath. His face was full of sadness.
"I am so sorry to come so late at night like this, Mr. Poniman, Mrs. Warsinah. I have some very sad news to tell you," Mr. Suryo said with a sad face. "It is about Anton, my nephew from Jakarta."
"What happened to Anton, sir? Is he okay?" Mr. Poniman asked with a worried face.
"Mr. Poniman, Anton had a terrible accident last night in Jakarta. He was riding his motorcycle home from his office late at night, and a car hit him from behind. His leg is badly injured. The doctor said his leg bone is broken. He has to be in the hospital for a long time. He has to have an operation," the village head explained, his voice shaking a little.
"Oh my God!" Mrs. Warsinah gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.
"Therefore, Mr. Poniman, Mrs. Warsinah, I am so sorry, but my family and I were forced to postpone Sri and Anton's proposal ceremony. We have to postpone it until Anton's condition is completely recovered and improved. We cannot have a happy proposal ceremony when the groom is in the hospital with a broken leg," the village head said with a deeply apologetic face.
"I am so sorry, Mr. Poniman. We and the family were forced to postpone Sri and Anton's proposal ceremony. Because Anton had an accident last night in Jakarta. I hope you and your family can understand," Mr. Suryo said again, looking at Mr. Poniman with sincere apology.
"How is his condition, our son Anton, sir? We are so sorry to hear about the misfortune that befell our son Anton," said Mr. Poniman with a very worried face. Even though he had never met Anton in person for 22 years, he already considered him as his future son-in-law.
"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Poniman. The doctor said he will need at least two or three months to recover. His leg is in a cast. But don't worry, the proposal plan will still be implemented. We still want Sri to be part of our family. We will still propose to her. However, while waiting for Anton's condition to improve, sir. We apologize, this is beyond our plans. We humans can only plan, but God decides everything," Mr. Suryo explained.
"It is okay, Mr. Suryo, sir. I understand. An accident is a disaster. Humans can only plan, God decides. It is called a disaster for a reason, sir. Please don't worry too much, sir. Later I will explain this to Sri, Mr. Suryo. We pray that Anton gets well soon, Mr. Suryo. We pray for his fast recovery," Mr. Poniman said with a kind, understanding heart, even though inside his heart he was very disappointed because his dream of raising his family's status had to be postponed.
"Okay sir, thank you so much for your prayers and for your understanding, Mr. Poniman. You are such a kind family. Maybe tomorrow morning I will go to Jakarta to visit Anton in the hospital. I will let you know later about his condition, Mr. Poniman, you don't have to worry too much. Everything will be fine. God willing, he will recover soon," Mr. Suryo said to Mr. Poniman, then stood up to leave.
After the village head left, riding his old motorcycle into the dark night, the small house became quiet again.
***
In the small living room, Sri and Mrs. Warsinah had heard the entire conversation between Mr. Poniman and the village head.
The innocent Javanese girl, Sri Lestari, who was still wearing her simple house dress, was daydreaming. She was sitting on the cement floor, looking at the dark green rice fields through the small window. In her little, broken heart, she said silently, "Maybe this is the way God shows me. Maybe God doesn't allow me to be engaged to someone I don't love at all and someone I don't even know at all. Maybe God heard my prayers."
It was true that she had met Anton once. But that was about 22 years ago when they were both still small children, playing in the mud near the rice fields. She did not remember his face at all.
Suddenly, a voice broke the innocent girl's thoughts.
"Mother, Father, Sri, come here for a moment. The village head just came here. He reported that Anton had an accident last night. So your proposal with him was postponed until Anton's condition is improved and he is healthy again," Mr. Poniman called his wife and daughter into the living room.
Mrs. Warsinah sat beside her husband. Sri came and sat in front of them.
"Maybe God didn't want Anton to propose to me here, Father. So he had an accident," Sri answered innocently, with a small, hopeful voice. For a second, she felt a little relieved.
"Stop! You cannot say that, Sri! You should not say such things!" Mrs. Warsinah warned her youngest child with a firm, motherly voice. "We should wish Anton a speedy recovery. What will happen if the village head hears you say that? He will be so sad and angry. He has been so kind to our family. You must be grateful and pray for Anton!"
"Besides, Sri already has a man of her own choice, Mother. He is more handsome, and better and kinder than Anton. Really, Mother. He wants to come to Indonesia to propose to Sri. He is serious!" Sri said with a face full of sudden confidence and courage. For the first time, she dared to talk about Bahadir to her parents.
"Who is he? Which man and what is his name? How come you never told Mother anything about him? And as far as I know, there are no men who are close to you now in this village. You are always at the food stall," Mrs. Warsinah said, very surprised. Her eyes were wide open.
"The man's name is Bahadir. His full name is Bahadir Emrah. He is from Turkiye, from Istanbul. He is not a random, poor person, Mother. I think he is a billionaire. He works as the head of his family's luxury carpet company. He has a big showroom with hundreds of beautiful carpets. Sri met him on an online dating app called Global Connect. He said he loves Sri, and wants to propose to Sri as soon as possible, Father, Mother! He even learned Indonesian for me for one whole month!" Sri said with a proud, happy smile.
"Are you dreaming, my child? Are you crazy?" Mrs. Warsinah said, her voice getting higher with worry. "There are a lot of scams now, you know, Sri. There are a lot of bad people, criminals, liars out there on the internet. Don't trust people you just met on the internet so easily. Especially through cyberspace, through a dating app. They lie a lot. Many girls in Indonesia have been tricked by foreign men. We don't know their daily lives, we don't know their families, we don't know if they are good people or criminals. You cannot just choose a future husband like buying a cat in a sack! You don't know what is inside!"
"Obviously, Anton is very different from this Bahadir," Mr. Poniman said, advising his daughter with a firm, fatherly tone. "Anton's origins are clear. He is from a respected family. His family background is clear. His uncle is the village head, who has helped our family so many times. You have also known his family for a long time, Sri. Mr. Suryo is a good person. He often helps our family when we have no rice. You must not make your father ashamed in front of the village head, Sri. If you reject Anton for a foreign man you met on the internet, people in this village will laugh at our family. They will say we are crazy."
"Your father has a point, you know, Sri. Just imagine if this Turkish man is a con artist or a criminal, like in those soap operas on TV, you know. Those stories where a foreign man tricks an Indonesian village girl. It is so scary for Mother to imagine that. What if he is a bad man?" Mrs. Warsinah said, hugging Sri with motherly worry.
"But Mother, Father, Sri is very sure that Bahadir is not the kind of man that Mother imagines. He is not a criminal. He is polite, and he has great respect for women. He never once asked me for anything dirty or rude. He respects me. He even respects you, Mother, even though he has never met you. He asked his mother to say hello to me. Sri will prove to you that what Sri said is true. He will come here to Yogyakarta this Sunday to prove it!" Sri said, trying to convince her parents with all her heart.
"Enough! Don't fantasize too much, Sri! You watch too many Turkish dramas on TV!" Mr. Poniman said firmly, ending the conversation. "You will not change my mind. You have to do what your father says. Anton is the right, safe man for you. A man from Turkiye is too far, too risky. That is final!"
Immediately, with tears in her eyes, Sri went straight into her small room. She closed her thin plywood door and informed Bahadir via a short WhatsApp message. Her fingers were shaking as she typed.
"Bahadir, my engagement with Anton was postponed. He had an accident. His leg is broken. - Sri"
At the same time, almost instantly, Bahadir directly contacted her via video call. But this time, his handsome face looked very sad, very tired, and very disappointed. He was not in his luxury showroom. He was in what looked like a dark office, with a worried look.
"Sri, my love, I am so sorry, I cannot go to Indonesia this Sunday. My carpet factory here in Istanbul caught fire last night. A big fire. I have to postpone my flight to Indonesia. I am so sorry, Aşkım (My Love)," Bahadir said with a sad and deeply disappointed face. His blue-grey eyes, which were usually so bright, now looked dark and tired.
"What did you say? Burned? How did that happen? Oh my God! Is everyone okay? Are you okay?" Sri asked Bahadir with a very worried expression. She forgot about her own sadness and focused on his.
"It is a long story, Sri, never mind, don't worry too much about me. Maybe I can come to Indonesia in a month's time. Because here in Istanbul, I have to finish my business first. I have to take care of my factory, my employees, and the investigation. I have hundreds of employees who depend on me," Bahadir said, explaining to Sri with a heavy voice.
"Okay, my love, I really understand your current condition. As the head of a big company, your duties and responsibilities are not easy, full of risks and challenges. I will not be selfish to force you to come here and leave your factory and your company there in a time of crisis. And there are also many people who need you more than me right now. Many employees depend on you for their family's life, for their food. God willing, I will patiently wait for you until you come here to propose to me. After all, my proposal here was also postponed because my candidate had an accident. We are both waiting. We can wait together," the innocent Javanese girl explained with so much love and understanding. She was no longer a cold girl. Her heart was warm again.
Bahadir looked at her through the screen with so much love and admiration. How could a poor village girl be so understanding, so mature, so kind?
Then, with a slightly seductive, loving face, trying to cheer her up, he said, "May I call you Aşkım (My Love)?"
"Aşkım? What does that mean? What is Aşkım?" Sri asked with a confused and curious face, full of question marks. Understandably, the girl did not understand Turkish very well at all.
"Aşkım (My Love) means My Love. It is what Turkish men call the woman they love the most. And you can also call me by the same name, Aşkım (My Love). How? Are you willing to be my Aşkım (My Love)?" Bahadir replied with a flirtatious, loving face, his blue-grey eyes shining again.
"Hmm, okay, I will, Aşkım (My Love)," Sri said shyly, her cheeks turning bright red. She liked how the word sounded. So romantic, so different from Javanese.
"Oh yes, do you want to teach me your language, Turkish? I want to learn Turkish for you, just like you learned Indonesian for me," Sri said with a sweet smile.
"Yes, I will teach you, Aşkım (My Love)," Bahadir said with a happy laugh.
Then he looked deep into her eyes through the camera and said in a very romantic, deep Turkish voice, "Sen çok güzelsin. Seni çok seviyorum, Aşkım (You are so beautiful. I love you so much, my love)."
Because she didn't understand Turkish at all yet, Sri just smiled at him shyly. But her face was full of question marks and curiosity.
"Aşkım (My Love), what did you say just now? I don't understand at all, Aşkım (My Love). Tell me what it means!" asked the innocent girl, giggling.
"Secret, my love, you have to figure out the meaning yourself, Aşkım (My Love). It is a homework for you. You must learn Turkish to understand my love for you," Bahadir said teasingly.
"Arrggg.. you are cheating, Aşkım (My Love). You can speak Indonesian fluently, while I cannot speak Turkish at all. Okay, I will learn Turkish by myself. Watch out, I will reply to you in Turkish later and you will be shocked!" Sri said, laughing for the first time that night. Her laughter was like music to Bahadir's ears.
***
Suddenly, in Istanbul, Bahadir's personal assistant called him urgently. His phone rang loudly. He answered the phone and had to pause the video call with Sri.
"Efendim, çok acil (Sir, it is very urgent)," his assistant said in a panicked voice.
His assistant explained that according to eyewitness accounts from the security guards, someone had deliberately set fire to his luxury carpet factory in the industrial area of Istanbul. And that person is likely an insider. Someone who has been working in the factory for a long time and knows the building well.
Bahadir's face turned from sad to angry and cold. His blue-grey eyes turned icy.
"Who was it? Did you see his face on the CCTV?" Bahadir asked his assistant.
However, his assistant said that the person who set the factory on fire had covered his face with a black cloth, like a mask. His face is not clearly visible on the CCTV. He looked like a professional.
Holding back his emotions a little, trying to stay calm like a good leader, Bahadir finally made his way to his living room in his penthouse. He was thinking hard and still wondering in his mind. During all these years, he felt that he had never had a serious enemy. He was always kind to his employees. He paid them well.
He was still confused about what had happened. There had never been such an incident in his family's 30-year history. This is the first time this terrible thing has happened. His mind was full of questions. Who set fire to his factory? Who wants to destroy his family's empire? And why now, just when he was about to fly to Indonesia to propose to the love of his life?