A Wife For Me (The End)




“I have no plans to get married yet,” she said after our laughter subsided. I smiled sadly. Finally this time I was rejected again. The lattest was by a college chick to whom I thought would receive my ask to marry. With pleasure, of course. Women were surely mysterious buddy. I was really understand by then.

“All right,” I said resignedly.

“We should leaving.”

“Okay,” she said. She took the jacket draped over the sofa and wearing it as well. And I just could only see her sadly. It’s a hard feeling rejected continuously by girls, but life went on indeed. Leaving everything behind. Definitely it would come my time to marry a woman. Maybe not in this way God would give me the match.

We went down to the front desk using the elevator. We both stood there, having not dare to look at one another. Just the two of us in the elevator. Then the bell rang and we walked out. The receptionist served us with a friendly smile. I do not know what is in her mind for seeing her guests just only wearing their room for three hours as well.

We stood on front of the hotel sculpting. She watched at her feet nervously. I handed several sheets of hundred thousand rupiah in her hand. I tried to smile at her anyway, she replied awkwardly. Then I brought the girl shaking hands. “What’s your name,” I asked, “Maybe we can meet again sometime,” I said hopefully. The girl who just rejected me smiled broadly and answered shortly, “Wilma”.

Then we split up in the darkness of the night.




Malang, December 2010.

photograph by Denies Priantinah Senopranoto

A Wife For Me (Part Six)




“Well then,” said Anton enthustiastic that time when I tell him that this time I was looking for a prostitute for myself. “As a man, eventually you have to feel the warm and how interesting the titillate smell of a woman as well,” he continued. “I thought you were not normal,” he said and laughed. “It turns out you also hooked heh ….” He bursted out laughing. I was annoyed because not find any funny aspects of my request to him. I really intended to find a wife indeed in this way. I was having tried ordinary ways to have it. At the ends, I was refused and rejected again and again.

It was an event a week ago. Through the mediation of Anton finally I met with this girl. And I fell in love at first sight. After the afternoon this day she knocked on my door. Speaking frankly I like her shyly smile.

“I’ll take over all your college funds and allowance as well,” I told her symphatically.

“As long as you are willing to be my wife.”

It was very clear that she was anxious. Shake her shoulders and lifted up her gorgeous face. She looked at the thick carpeted ground floor rooms. Carpet that cover the wood floor had very interesting pattern. Instead of teakwood or ceramics, but wood of coconut trees, it called glugu in Javanese. Her eyes stared wistfully underfoot. It appears that she really hesitated. Oh God, how I wanted to kiss her wet lips. I’ve never kissed a girl anyway. I tried to encourage my heart indeed.

“I never believe in men, moreover trust them as well”

“It’ll be the time you are definitely going to leave,” she continued.

I tried to give her understanding. “Ah, not all men,” I tell her. And we both burst out laughing. That phrase was exactly the same as the title of the old songs sung by Basofi Sudirman. The former governor of East Java, Indonesia.




pict by Astungkara Wiguna

A Wife For Me (Part Five)





Having finished the prayer,I did not take additional pray, or dzikr as usual. I chosed to sit with the campus’ chick on the sofa. She was holding television remote and tried to find an interesting channel. She did it for a couple of time. But eventually she turned off the television. Indeed, there was usually no interesting event on the television at Saturday night like this evening.

“There’s one thing I want to tell you.”

“I’ve been rejected by some of the girls.” I said bluntly.

The girl looked at me deeply. Waiting.

“However, I’m a human being who require a closer friend to share.” I continued.

“Would you married me and we become husband and wife?” I asked her bluntly as well.

The college chick’s girl looked at me as if I was mad. Of course she thinks that I was going to play her, I understood it as much. Though, to be honest my friends, I was very serious and had no plans to play her as well. I’ve repeatedly asked for good girls to marry. As much as I tried to get married as recommended by my religion was, and as much as it was anyway I always denied.

As a civil engineer in my country, Indonesia. I have many friends who work in the same fields. Infrastructures construction. And with my friends I sometimes servicing the projects leader to get the tender. Usually they were from goverment institutions whom giving us the projects to build. Sometimes I found odd tastes of them. For example, having wanted to have sex with a pregnant woman. I was very confusing to find a pregnant woman willing to serve projects leader in exchange for a little pieces of rupiahs from me until I became acquainted with Anton.

Anton was a pimp who had a world wide network of this kind. Finally, he was also found this kind of woman who was asked by Mr. Salman, the project leader. I did not know how come Anton having got my order. Ah, what the hell …. The important thing was the tender was at my hand, even if a few percent of it becomes the right of ownership of Mr. Salman. As I promised him as well. Indeed, this was a common way for government’s officials to get some extra money.




photograph by Eko Eshape

A Wife For Me (Part Four)





“A guest asked me to have sexual intercourse.”

“I was just needed the money to pay tuition and buy some text book,” she continued. In short, she’s finally serving the guest’s request for the sake of a few sheets of Indonesian rupiahs. Very cliche story and often found in the student’s cities, I thought.

“Did you ever regret your life?” I asked then.

“For what?” she answered immediastely, “This is the way I choose.”

The girl then took off her jacket and put it carelessly on a sofa. The hotel room was quite spacious and comfortable. There was a medium-sized television exactly located in front of the couch. A comfortable and overstuffed sofa placed near the balcony. Simple chair to write also available. The chair was behind the desk on which there was a telephone and a pack of hotel’s letter-headed paper.

Wow, without jacket turned that this girl really more exciting indeed. She was wearing a tight T-shirt usually worn by today’s youth. It was yellow and read “I’m a Virgin” on her chest. Subtle looked black bra she wore at the time. Her breasts were indeed very beautiful.

“I’ll take Isha,” I said. Isha is one of the obligatory prayers that Muslims do daily. There are five prayer times every day. Isha is done at night until dawn.

She looked astonished, then chuckled. “You rent a room and being alone with a prostitute in a hotel room,” she commented. Then, “While you do not forget to pray.”

“Well I’ll be, it’s very contradictive.”

“Never mind,” I said. I went into the bathroom and take wudlu. Wudlu is washing several parts of the body such as face, arms,legs, and some other body’s parts with water for ablutions before prayers. Then performed four cycles or four raka’at for Isha praying. Don’t ever you ask your friends, if I khusyu or not during this praying. Khushu what I mean is performing the praying with all your mind and sense only directed to God, the one and only, who created this life. My mind was a jumble. I was in a hotel room with a beautiful student and I rampaged my libido.




Photograph by Emile Seno Aji

A Wife For Me (Part Three)




“That’s the difference between you and me,” I said.

“I did not have the courage to fund my own college costs,” I continued.

“And then?,” It appeared that she wanted to know my past time.

“My grandmother’s brother and my father managed to pay my college’s charges”

Then I told her the story of my past. Severe and bloody hard college time. My father did not give me enough tuition cost and allowance. I’d been thinking to pay my own college fund. So, I had to work, whatever job. But the lectures became increasingly severe. And my priority was graduation. I had to finish my college, whatever its cost. So I learned hardly to be able to pass the exams which were very difficult for me. I did not dare to take risks not pass the lectures’ examination by studying hard. But it certainly was a wrong decision then I realized. It was not just the brain and subjects mastery to finish college. But luck instead as well.

I told her about my friend. A student who dare to cheat on exams. Even before the lecturer of the course. “She passed quickly”, I tell her. “And having worked in the industry for some time, she applied to become a lecturer on our department and accepted as well”.

She smiled waiting for my next story. “She now resides in the UK took a doctoral program,” I said bitterly. I myself did wanta be a lecturer and indeed not accomplished.

“You’re luckier than me,” the girl said sadly. Inevitably loomed a smile on her beautiful face.

“My father died when I was on my second semester,” she said then.

“Then my friend find me a way out,” she continued.

“I was offered a job at karaoke,” her eyes was so glazed indeed, “I’m not aware that it is a risky work,” she recalled.




Photograph by Ragil Suryo Raharjo at Omah Sedulur

A Wife For Me (Part Two)




I smiled when recalling the incident. At least twice I heard the testimony of girls about the scarcity of me for them.

“If you think I’m a rarely man, why didn’t you klon?,” I said then, “You’re a medical people, why don’t you take my fingernails or hair and then you klon so that people like me become many and not rare anymore.” Klon is a loan word in Indonesian for clone in English.

“Yeah Mas, .. dikeloni,” snapped a friend of Wilma. Just a few days later I knew that her name was Wuri. Dikeloni is Indonesian for bedded, and Mas is a common greeting to the man with the objective of respect. The Dentistry’s students who were around the place looked over and stop their chatts for a moment. Then they laughed surprisingly. Including Wilma and Wuri. I was so naive that time until didn’t dare to smile.

I heard later Wilma married to a police officer. And I did not know how about her lately. I know, Wuri had a relationship with Wawan, a friend of Chemical Engineering. Perhaps they were now married and have several children. Who knows?.

“You’re dreaming,” said the leggings girl to me.

I stammered for a moment, “Yes,” I replied innocently at her. I told her I remembered the events of ten years ago. At that time, I was a student at a large university in Yogyakarta. And even its reputation in this country have no doubt. I told her that when I was a student, I also heard the obviously similar comments about me.

“You’re also a student, right?.”

“And you make efforts covering your college cost yourself?.”

“Yes,” she replied dryly.

I stared at her face deeply. Really pretty. Apparently the girl was uncomfortable with the way I looked. She brushed her hair backside shortly. I smell the scent of expensive perfume that was commonly used by high class family university students. I rustled my heart for a moment.




Photograph by Ragil Suryo Raharjo at Omah Sedulur.

A Wife For Me (Part One)

A Wife For Me

A Short Story by Fermy Nurhidayat




The girl got up from the chair that has been occupied for a couple of time. Her tight pants was so clearly visible on both my eyes. The eyes of a man who had a normally lust. I was tempted to do something to her. Silhouette was extremely tempting. However, I had to pay for this overnight.

“So, what do you want from me?”, she asked.

“We just talk”, I replied.

The woman laughed. “You’re funny,” she said later. Rows of white teeth implies that the tooth was treated well. “What’s so funny?,” I asked then after the laughter subsided. Expand my friendly smile. “You’re not like any other man I know,” she said afterwards. Again my smile slowly expanded.

I happened to remember the events about ten years ago. A girl was also said to me like that. Ah, … It had been very long time ago. A girl from the Faculty of Dentistry. We’re good friends and she had been patching some of my teeth on Dental Conservative Laboratory. She asked me to do that after complaining about my perforated teeth to her.

Stories become a short romantic story afterwards. I used to visit her so often to her boarding house to discuss various things. It’s start from personal life to the story of the political conditions in our country, Indonesia. That short love story then did not continue after I knew that Wilma, the dentistry’s girl, also had been being visited by other students. Most of them were people of the Graduate Program on University of Gadjah Mada, our university. I become reluctant to prolonge the relationship.

“You’re obviously a rare man,” said Wilma when we rest in the courtyard of Dental Conservation Laboratory which was filled with Dentistry students. Most of them chatting on spare time before being commanded entered by the laboratory supervisor. Promptly at nine in the morning.

“What rare?” I asked her.

“You’re not like any other man I know,” said Wilma later. She laughed, showing a row of white teeth at me. Just like the girl in this hotel room. Ten years later.