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Sunday, June 29, 2014

One Night in Ramadan

So there he was, in his father’s new Passat, with Justin Timberlake turned up to 20 on the radio, air conditioning at a good two, in the driver’s seat, PSP in hand, wondering when the terawikh would be over already.

The car’s parked right right across the road from Masjid Batu’s front gate. His father always chose that spot to park, even if there were spots inside the mosque compounds, since it was easier to get out of after they had finished prayers.

Zul sighed. Every year for as long as he could remember, he would come here with his father for prayers. After performing ‘isyak, he’d ask the keys from his father and go wait in the car until the 8 rakaat terawikh was over, then his father would come join him in the car and they’d go back home.

He didn’t understand why he still had to come, even though he didn’t pray terawikh. His father made it clear that it wasn’t obligatory, only sunat, so he opted out of it. Now at 16, he still has to come every night for the length of the month of Ramadan, just to wait in the car. It made no sense.

He tried asking his father if he could stay at home, once when he was 14, but his father got so angry at him that his Nintendo got taken away from him for a whole week. From then on, he just reluctantly followed. It sucked, but it was way better than having to go without his PSP for a week. 

Besides, it was only for a month. And this new car smell wasn’t too bad. He wondered about what car he’d get once he had his license. He’d definitely want an SLK, but his father would never let him have that. He had to keep it realistic. Like probably one of those old BMW M3s. Those couldn’t be too expensive, right? All vintage and stuff. He’d tune it up and put turbo in and stuff, definitely paint on some racing stripes on it. Paint it yellow with black stripes. Just like bumblebee. It’d be so badass.

Suddenly, a knock at the passenger seat window startled him and snapped him out of his daydream. He almost dropped his PSP. Was it a rempit wanting to rob him? He’d feared this day for a while now. He always fantasized about beating them to death with the golfstick father always put in the trunk. But how was he supposed to get to the trunk now that he was inside? Dammit!

He finally got up the courage to look outside the window. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was just an old man, his face all wrinkled, what little remained of his short hair, his big grin that revealed the few teeth he had left, wearing a plain white shirt. 

The old man knocked again. Zul didn’t really know what to do. He took a closer look at the old man. Only then did he notice that his eyes were blue. His face was definitely very typically Malay, but his eyes were blue. Now this was something Zul had never seen before. 

He also noticed something else. There was someone right behind him. An old woman. About the same age as the old man, he figured. Their faces were similar. She had the same blue eyes and almost-toothless smile on her face too. Her hair was long and grey, tied in a ponytail behind her. She was wearing a worn-out cotton baju kurung. 

She had her arms around the old man’s shoulders. This is weird, thought Zul. Only when the old man turned slightly to the side did he find out that the old man was giving the old woman a piggy-back ride. This is really weird, Zul almost said out loud. Why was he giving her a piggy-back ride? Why were their eyes blue? And more importantly, thought Zul, why were they smiling so widely?

After several moments had passed, the old man walked away from the car, still carrying the old woman. Zul just watched as they went away. The old woman even turned around and waved at him, the smile on her face never wavering. Zul just sat there with his mouth agape, not knowing what to think.

Right after the two old people had disappeared down the road, another knock shocked Zul. This time it was on the driver’s side. He turned slowly to see what it was. It was his father. He knocked again, pointing downwards, signaling for Zul to unlock the door. He blinked twice, and finally unlocked the door. He went over to sit at the passenger seat and they went home.


The night afterwards, Zul decided to stay inside the mosque and pray the 8 rakaat of terawikh.

4 comments:

Naqıyan Anıs said...

Tarawih la anwar. Bukan terawikh.

amirah shokri said...

... okay kenapa mata dorang biru?

Khaty Jalil said...

good story

Nurul Ainaa said...

its tarawih hahah but its okay nvm, both are okay :D