Assalamualaikum, guys.
Today is (as I wrote this, it was 11th September 2016), and it is Sunday! Currently Im enjoying my Starbucks drink and utilise its free wifi. Even though lembab kalahkan siput, beta bertahan 😭. Naseb baik free. Now Im at Subang Airport, waiting to board my plane in several hours more. I have to leave my car at the parking place, hoping that it will be safer there rather than tinggalkan back in my asrama. BUT THEY FREAKING CHARGE ME RM3 PER HOUR make me nervous as hell.. Im currently on one week of holiday! They are so cheapskate about holidays, they combine the Raja Hajj and Mid-Semester Break together. Tu pun punyalah kedekut bagi seminggu ja. Deyy, I baru finish final, bagi laa extra. Tak habis lagi berjimba ni.
So since cuti raya, my granparents kinda look forward for me to come back to kampung. They've been asking when is my flight arrived hahahaha and that was 2 months ago. I just booked my ticket two days ago. Lol.
Truth be told, Im not really in the mood to go back to Terengganu. It simply breaks my heart, over and over again. So tomorrow is when we, Muslims celebrate our Qurban, by slaughter the cows and goats and give it to the poor one. Whereas for me, 364 days ago, I received the news where my mom is no longer with me. No longer with us. She was sent to Heaven, simple put.
364 days ago, I still remember exactly how it happened, just like it just happened yesterday (ayat cliche tak habis). My siblings were there in Terengganu and they were waiting for me excitedly at the airport, since our parents went to perform their Hajj. And that was my first experience of celebrating Raya without parents. Little did I know, that was just the beginning, since I will no longer can have that opportunity. And 354 days later, here I am, contemplating about life, alone. No parents, no siblings. Nobody..
I still kept the messages I received from all my parents' friends, saying "Takziah semoga arwah ditempatkan dalam kalangan bidadari syurga." or even "Heard from my mom about what happened to yours. Stay strong... " and I didnt have a clue about what the hell was going on. I asked my siblings as they also received the same messages. All three of us knew nothing.. How ignorant we were.
Cannot take the torture of not knowing anything I asked my grandparents what actually happened, with tear in my eyes.. And my atuk simply said "Kalau benda nok jadi, kita kena redho je la" and he put his hand on my shoulder. PANGGGGGGG! it was the hardest virtual slap that I've ever received. Weird, because he put his hand on my shoulder, but I can feel how hurt it was in my heart. Yes, I can still feel it now. I grabbed my youngest sister(she was 11 years old), I cried, I screamed, the only thing that I can think of is dying. Up until today I cant forget how my Nenek told me about her death.. "Mama meninggal selepas wukuf di Arafah. Dia tiba di Tanah Mekah dan dia sesak nafas. Arwah hembuskan nafas di atas peha babah.. Dini ngan adik adik kuat ya.."
Half of me died together with my mom that day.
My other sister, surprised me by patting my back and went to the toilet. I knew she cried in there, I know her so well.. She came out of that toilet with wudhuk and she went to my mom's room, reciting Yassin... How can she be so calm while I, the eldest, crying miserably? She is so strong. Even stronger than me... How I wish she can lend me her strength for one moment.. I want to be strong to. No, I need to be strong. I need to be strong. I need to be strong. I kept on repeating those.. and I wiped my tears, I went outside to take a very deep breath. I made a few phone calls just to confirm the news. Not that I didnt believe my Nenek, it was just that, I need to have the confirmation. And I did get what I want.
And now, even after 364 days gone, here I am, crying as I type this entry in the Starbucks where people just watch me.. Maybe they thought I was watching some Korean Dramas. But Im not. Here I am, feeling so bad, so alone by myself.
Im not even feeling like celebrating my Raya Hajj tomorrow. I just go back to Terengganu out of obligation, as a granddaughter. Nothing more. For me, Raya Hajj is just another holiday. Just like any other days that I have to go through without my mom.
