Pak Haji’s eyes snapped open. They were not eyes anymore. They were two dark, hollow pits. And they were filled with a silent, terrible disappointment.
The men shifted uncomfortably. Some tried to insert the missing repetitions, their voices rising in protest against the new rhythm. But Arman clapped his hands softly. tahlil nu
"Pak Kiai," Arman had said, his voice low but sharp. "Forty-five minutes for Yasin . Another hour for tahlil . People are tired. Can we… streamline it?" Pak Haji’s eyes snapped open