I’m counting the days impatiently, waiting for the first week of Raya to end.

I wonder what’s with this year’s Raya. It seems so much sombre. Or is it me that has changed?

 

Now I wonder what makes me look forward to Raya every year.

 

I love Raya eve. I love the first few hours of the morning of the first day of Raya when takbir raya could still be heard from the mosque and tv.

 

I hate having to meet up with my relatives. I hate visiting people’s houses. I hate the biscuits and cakes (who the fuck started that tradition?). I hate the nasi minyak and rendang and every dish they served during Raya. I hate the firework battles the neighbours put up every night.

 

I hate the rest. I hate the crowd. I hate the people. The term anti-social never suits anyone as it does me.

 

I spend today staying in bed, finishing a book. When people came over to visit, I pretended I was asleep so my parents couldn’t scold me for not greeting them. It was bliss. Except for the sore throat and flu.

 

Now I just have to figure out a few more excuses to avoid the visits and family gatherings. I figured meeting certain people once a year was more than enough. Starting with my elder brother.

 

Maybe I should fake a fever. That might work.

 

Selamat Hari Raya I guess.

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