The new wife

"Honey, do you want a new wife ?" one day my wife asked me...
"What ?" it might be my slip of hearing....
"I want to live in harem ...."
Good Allah, it was right...
"Do you mean I can have another wife after you ?"
"You do honey, even I already have the incumbent...."
Alhamdulillah, it is a flush, royal flush !
"If you don’t mind who’s the incumbent dear ?"
"She is not the strange one, I am sure you have already known who she is, because she was your classmates when you are in Junior and high school in Solo........."

...polygame is a hardest thing to do weather you like or not it's thereality...

My goodness, who the hell is she ? Who knows......

You can call her by Ms Nurul , she was my classmates from elementary to high school. She went to Parijs Van Djava to study at the Instituut Van Gadjah, she got a long dark hair en sensual lips, just like the blossom rose.....hmm..she match with me I think........

That night is unforgettable night, I could not sleep, how could I ? I got a real big surprise at once; I might have a dream swallowing the moon. Her husband beat her. She is the widow with no children. What an idiot....women as pretty as Nurul has been looked after with senseless treatment....

…the other morning, I said to my wife "dear, I want to talk about yesterday’s chatting, I think I can go with your offering....it doesn’t mean that I am Casanova one but I feel pity to her when you told her miserable life...."

What a man, numero uno liar...
"Alhamdulillah honey....I myself the one that propose your second wife to be....alias my sparring in our marriage "

my new wife....

That was the greatest word on that day, I have imagined what happened to my 200,000 nd night....with Nurul....as my wife’s partner in marriage........I have an erotic imaginary situation, I would to scrub her long-dark-hair gently, and I’d kiss her blossomed-rose lips....oh my God ! My body turned to fever....

"Honey....!"
"Yes dear..."
"Wake up, it’s been 07:30 already, you better hurry up unless you want to have your workday late...!"
What the F*** !! I got up directly, so it was just a dream ? Mutha fucka !!!!! It was self-explanatory, how can I have such good and humble wife ? She even proposed my second wife ? Not like my habit, I never tell my wife about that night’s dream...unless I want the third world war....
"Go hurry to have a bath ...do not waste your time..."
"Errrr...yes...." replied me in minor mode....

Up to present I always smile if I remember that dream , I wonder where the hell those dream come from. Maybe it came from my last mudik journey with my buddy, the Doctor. He told everything about her. Lucky for me the women was the beautiful Nurul , not Madame loso...that’s I call the nightmare.....

Koeaing!
let the flower blossoms to millions...

The Soengatie Story...

Based on true story, which happened a long time ago in central Java, it could be a mirror to all cruel peoples around the globe...

One day in the year of 1948,
Popongan village,
Karanganyar district,
Surakarta residency

Soengati was a widow with two children, one was her own daughter and another step boy from her late husband. She was in the middle of preparing pancen --it is a ritual to provide some foods, drinks, cigarettes and all things the late likes when they lived-- to her late husband. The late Marto Sentono was the secretary of Popongan village; therefore, what he liked was different with common villagers. He liked the hot rice with fresh vegetables plus chili sauce served with fried catfish from nearby river. Moreover, not to forget the good-smell of tobacco served with black coffee. All the late Marto sentono favorites were served.

...whoever hurts others it will paid sooner or later...

Thirty kilometers east from Popongan village, there laid turmoil caused by Peoples Democratic Front (FDR) the sister of Communist Party of Indonesia (PKI). They rebelled to the Republic’s government to set up their ideal state, Soviet State of Indonesia ! Their great leader was Muso with his secondant, Mr. Amir Sjarifoeddin. He was the former prime minister of the Republic. Thousands peoples has been slaughtered by them because they did not follow this communist states of Indonesia Soviet. They cut their neck, hung and slaughtered as chickens. There were tears and blood flood in Madiun district at that time. The PESINDO (the youth socialist of Indonesia) militia with youth PKI and FDR, showed their power off. They wore the black-colored peasant uniform, with carraben automatic gun and clurit ( Madurese traditional dagger ). They killed whomever who did not follow their idea of communist states...

The Cruel Soldiers....

However, Bung Hatta as the successor of former PM, Mr.Amir, took required actions. He then sent Siliwangi troops to fight that rebellion. The troops passed Popongan village, where Soengati lived. That day was unforgettable moment to Soengatie. It has been a traumatic experience to her.

"Baaaaaaaaaaammmm...!!!", someone has crashed the door hardly, Soengatie was shocked to death because she was in the middle of breast-feeding her only daughter....
"He you woman, maneh teh gaduh sangu teu ? ( Sundanese : any rice for us bitch ?")
"I aye sir" replied her with terrible voice...
"KOWE BOGA SANGU TIDAK !!" the voice was getting louder...
"Ngapunten nDoro Tuan ( Javanese ; apologize me Sir...) mboten ngertos ( Javanese : I don’t understand what you just said at all...')
"Heu...beleguk siah...!" ( Sundanese : fucking moron ! “ )

Those starved troops have made Soengati’s house a mess until they found the food cupboard.
"Waduk siah...! Ieu teh naon ?" ( Sundanese : “You lied to me, what the fuck’s this ?” ) with his eyes starred at Soengati sharply...
"Ampun pak tentara, niku pancen kagem swargi bojo kula..." ( Javanese : Forgive me Sir, that’s for my late husband )
"Mani banyak alesan siah..." ( Sundanese : “You and your big mouth !”) he then ate all the late Marto Sentono’s pancen greedily.

While Soengatie just cried because she saw with her own eyes, her pancen for her beloved one was eaten by those starved and cruel Sundanese troops, Siliwangi....

Made by
Sir Koeaing!
Published at
Blogger Van Google
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KHO TJENG BIE & Co.
Kabajoran Batavia (JAVA)

The thin line between heaven and hell

.....for thou loyal ones, be understood, the gate between heaven and hell is called by sirotol musstakiem , it is as thin as hair divided to seven pieces, just like the sharpest digger.........( one of the elder Soma's speeches )

Ithink I have been in that gate. This happened when I was young a long time ago. I was a college student, liked to have some quest everywhere I like. Therefore one day, bro Yanto, one of my friends who interested in martial art and spiritual studies, asked me to joint him to go to some Islamic service called by one hundred day commemoration of the death.

...man tends to look for what he/she likes in a very shortmoment...

"Brother koeaing, you have your skill on Qur'anic reading, even your voice can be matched with Brother Nanang Khosim, may I ask you to go along with me this Saturday night ?.....of course to commemorate the one hundred days of my friend's father death "
"My gosh.....to be honest, do you think so, my voice as good as the world champion of the Qur’anic reading ? You must be joking then....but OK, I'll joint you bro..." reply me with my face was glowing like red lamp....

So the story was began, like no other days, that time I did the right thing, reading the Holy Qur'an. We went to the Matesih district soon, where the commemoration was being held. It was a village, a fully traditional village with the houses was still in joglo style, with the finest jati wood. What the....?? the late must be a wealthy one when he lived....

After we got to that house, many peoples have attended. Just like the rich Javanese do, the house has spacious guest rooms, in and outside the house, ala peasant style. Spacious room is the main idea, even if you do not have any room to sleep, it just does not matter for peasant, they could sleep everywhere. Nevertheless, one thing we did not understand about, so many peoples in the outside guest room, faced the short jati wood table.

Usually the table is for the snack and food place, but sometimes peoples use this for casino table as well. Casino ? isn't that gambling ? I thought that you just said that you went to the religious teaching didn't you ? YOU ARE RIGHT brother, I didn't lie to you at all, because I looked by my own eyes, someone has provided the remie cards, domino ,tjap djie, all gambling stuffs we all known ever and widely used in rural Javanese area.

I've been there....

So, you jumped in to that gambling party ? of course not....me and my friends sat in the 'inner' guest room, which consists of four mini 'so called casino table', if you don’t mind to compare to tens of mini casino table at the outside guest room ! Basically, man tends to go to hell than heaven....that thing I don't understand at all.

Therefore, I tell you the truth what really happened that night one single house was used to be a gambling house and religious teaching at once ! And you know what ? The best part is the two sides of gambler and religious people competed each other to have higher voices, the religious party increased their surah Yassien reading, the other increased their pangkur jenggleng singing !

You all have known that a story is not interesting at all without the strange things....let me bring you the weird ones. One of our heavenly people, known as brother Bagero --this man is bro Yanto's eldest brother himself-- has made us humiliated. Why ? because in the middle of our competition versus the hell club, without any predictions before, that bastard slowly moved to another quadrant, yes that Bagero moved to the outsiders, alias followed the ahlul naar party ! Astaghfirullahalaziieem.....

In very short moment, we had loose one man, tempted to follow the gambling party. How could he ? I mean he just had holy words, and now he was laughing loudly and singing along the pangkur jenggleng song, the hymn of Javanese gamblers. Right to "the jenggleng part" they had their backs got down together....it was awesome indeed !

The moral of the story is, whatever the way you choose, still you have to make it interesting. Ahlul naar has their pangkur jenggleng, while the ahlul jannah did not have any interesting one to show even a little. Show me if you look someone read Surah Yassien while his back gets down ? except you are in trance....

Koeaing!
Is there any the jenggleng yassien readers ?