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.