Halfway through Syawal, and I'm reminded of the first day of Eid where my sister
called us from Kelantan - absolutely homesick for the raya atmosphere
of Muar and our family. It was the first time in 27 years that she
hadn't been with the family in Muar.
Our family has always been
close-knit; out of my mother's six siblings - almost all the siblings
spend the first day of Eid in Muar, Johor; in that traditional kampung
house which somehow managed to house the thirty of us - the
place we have always associated with laughter and family, and as all of
us twenty odd cousins grew up, these moments became more precious.
We cousins spend the day before Eid re-learning how to weave ketupat
(only to probably forget how to do it the year after); help out our
parents with the Eid preparation. There's the 20kg curry chicken in the
massive pot outside meant for the first day and the sambal sotong that
Maksuaina now makes from home and brings back to Muar. There's the
family prayers that night as Uncle Yut gives his yearly tazkirah on the
night before Eid.
The first year I was in Australia for Eid, I was so horribly homesick that I refused to go out and celebrate; it wasn't the same feeling without the family. In my six years there, I eventually adjusted - but I can relate to how my sister feels this year being away from everyone.
As my grandmother gets older, and we among our cousins marry, things will change. We will have shared responsibilities to our spouses, and perhaps it will no longer be as easy for all of us to experience that carefree nostalgia with the family, and I think we're acutely aware of the impending change.
For what it's worth, I'm thankful for those moments spent. They're beautiful, and I have so much appreciation for my family and the extended family.
As things change, I can only hope that we manage to capture the same spirit of family, the same way my parents and my aunts and uncles tried so hard to make sure we really felt the spirit of Eid - the bonds between family and loved ones.
The first year I was in Australia for Eid, I was so horribly homesick that I refused to go out and celebrate; it wasn't the same feeling without the family. In my six years there, I eventually adjusted - but I can relate to how my sister feels this year being away from everyone.
As my grandmother gets older, and we among our cousins marry, things will change. We will have shared responsibilities to our spouses, and perhaps it will no longer be as easy for all of us to experience that carefree nostalgia with the family, and I think we're acutely aware of the impending change.
For what it's worth, I'm thankful for those moments spent. They're beautiful, and I have so much appreciation for my family and the extended family.
As things change, I can only hope that we manage to capture the same spirit of family, the same way my parents and my aunts and uncles tried so hard to make sure we really felt the spirit of Eid - the bonds between family and loved ones.
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