Home For Hari Raya
15:07My answer - of course. Who wouldn't wanna go home, right?
But for this year, I couldn't. Classes and exams got in the way.
The last time I was ever home was on July 2013. Muslims around the world celebrated Eid Fitri, after a month of Ramadhan (fasting month). I flew to Kuala Lumpur just in time for the celebration, Malaysian calls it 'Hari Raya Aidilfitri'.
Nearing the end of the school year, this was my annual summer break vacation and the first time I get to see the family after a year and half. There was no denying that I was extremely homesick - I FaceTimed my family every chance that I could, I called them almost every day. The three-weeks weekend was meant to cure that.
But I guess fate had another plan for me.
Instead of landing at Kuala Lumpur on the first day of Hari Raya, I was in Qatar, still thousand miles away from KL as the plane bound to Malaysia had some problems and we were delayed for almost a day.
When I picked up the payphone to call home and say Selamat Hari Raya, my little brother answered on the third ring. I could hear the background noises, my aunties and grandma were cooking in the kitchen and the men were shouting among them to prepare for any other tasks. My tears slowly welled up near the brim of my eyes as soon as I heard his voice.
"Hello?"
"Hello? Adik? It's me, Along."
A pregnant pause for a few seconds. "I thought you're on the plane back home?"
I sobbed, harder this time.
"The plane got some technical problems, and now- now I'm in Doha. We were delayed." I cried. My little brother called for my mom and she calmed me down but she didn't really know what to say. My dad was silent but he said that he had a feeling that something like this could happen- and you nailed it dad, it happened.
It sucks, by the way.
On that moment, I swore that if I ever get a chance to come home for Hari Raya, I will be back a week earlier. Or a month. I don't care.
Fast forward twenty-hours, I finally on board the plane, heading for Kuala Lumpur. I arrived on Malaysia soil the next day, and my family came to fetch me up and drove me back to Temerloh, one hour drive from Kuala Lumpur. Temerloh is where my grandparents from my mother's side live now.
It was the second day of Hari Raya, I guess I was pretty lucky when I saw my relatives were still at my grandparents' house, chatting and smiling while entertaining their guests that came over. They were thrilled when they saw me, walking in with huge green backpack and an exhausted face.
All in all, I enjoyed my Hari Raya in Malaysia.
The technology nowadays makes holiday away from home so much less intimidating now. Maybe it's the difference of being 22 and being 23. Maybe the foreign cities that I went to felt more like home than ever before. But, it didn't shape me into someone new entirely.
I Skyped my parents in the morning of last year (2014) Hari Raya while I was in between lunch break at the university. I FaceTimed with my siblings when I was getting milk out of the fridge for breakfast and they were on their way home to Shah Alam for this year's Hari Raya. I called again on the second day Raya, wishing everyone Selamat Hari Raya while I enjoyed my hot chocolate in my room. That night, the holiday became my excuse to invite my friends to KFC and celebrated Raya in our own way.
The homesick kid is now a distant memory.
I will be home soon, Malaysia. Wait for me.
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