Quran Cordoba - Bandung That afternoon, May 30, 2025, it was raining. After the ghurub, some of it had subsided, leaving behind the dampness and its distinctive smell. What was Bandung like after the rain, Pakji? Is it true what people say about how beautiful and comfortable Bandung is after the rain?

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Nearly five full moons ago, I sat on a chair with the shy and confused attitude typical of a new kid. Pakji, that's how I knew him after being introduced by Mr. Rofi. "Ayi, Mr. Lutfi's team." "Oh, yes... Vidi," he said with a faint smile that seemed to say, "Welcome to this noble home." His name was Pakji. One of the few names that stuck in my memory as a new kid back then. Not Pak Vidi, but Pakji. 

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Perhaps I've overlooked it, or perhaps he's been busy outside Sukajadi 215. Like a star in the daytime, I rarely saw Pakji. Until recently, I'd often meet him, shake his hand, and engage in small talk, or simply notice him sitting across from me, staring at his laptop and discussing with Pak Lutfi. 

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It's still in my memory, not long ago, how Pakji conveyed his analysis of online sales of book products from several other publishers. It's still memorable how Pakji asked, "I really like this... This is nahawand, right?" while offering strains of the holy verse, "tsumma aurotsna al-kitaaba al-ladziina asthofainaa min 'ibaadina...(QS 35: 32)". I noticed, "Bayyati, Pakji...", I said confidently. 

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Still fresh in my ears and eyes is how Pakji, with enthusiasm, despite his apparent lack of stamina, asked his teammates during futsal to share the ball with him. That afternoon, even though the sky was bright and clear, who would have thought it would rain tomorrow? Who would have thought the day after that, a storm? Who would have thought? God alone knows everything.

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How is it, Pakji? How is Bandung after the rain? 

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After the rain that night, it may have eased in some areas, but it actually intensified in Cordoba. Pakji has passed away, innaalillaahi wa innaa ilaihi raaji'un. It may be just an assumption, but perhaps the look of sadness and disbelief I saw on Pak Usman's face upon hearing the news illustrated how Cordoba had lost one of its best soldiers. It also illustrated the boisterous prayers and expressions of loss echoing from the lips of his brothers in the Cordoba WhatsApp group. "Oh God, Pak Vidi...", they echoed.

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It doesn't take long to get to know someone, whether this narrative is accurate or not, but this is the portrait I remember of Pakji. A somewhat funny, enthusiastic man, and of course, my favorite Imam when prayers weren't held in the mosque, but in the middle of the work area on the first floor of Sukajadi 215. 

Pakji now rests in the bosom of Bekasi. Although he is there, his services and light will live on throughout Cordoba, in the millions of Cordoba Quran copies scattered throughout the world. Warm regards, Pakji. I apologize if I, and perhaps some of your brothers and sisters in Cordoba, were unable to accompany you to your eternal home there. 

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I don't know where it came from, but a voice moved me to write this obituary. Pakji,... God willing, was part of the "faminhum saabiqun bi al-khoiraat" (the family of the righteous), who received "fadhlu al-kabir" (the blessing of Allah), as his favorite verse (QS 35:32). Al-Fatihah..

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Ayi Yusri A. Tirmidzi

Kids & Books Editor