Together

 

The smell of rendang made my heart sing, especially after it was left in the pot for so long that the water had all dried up, leaving the delicious mixture of aromatic paste and meat.

‘Don’t!!!’ A warning paired with a gentle punch deterred my attempt to steal a spoonful. Mom glared at me and pointed at the pile of ketupat in the tray on the floor. I immediately sat down to peel off the leaves wrapping and cut the ketupat into smaller pieces for easier consumption.

As I started the task, I took a quick glimpse of the clock on the wall. It was 3 am. Huh. We actually had spent the whole night in the kitchen. Meanwhile, dad was also awake then, ironing our festive clothes in the living room while belting out Siti Nurhaliza’s songs out of tune. After some time, he appeared at the kitchen door, offering his help, but mom declined as there was little left to do. Nevertheless, us three cleaned up the kitchen a bit and went to bed. While I was falling asleep, I reminisced about the day. About how chaotic it was after the sudden announcement of Hari Raya, how we waited impatiently for mom to come back from work at 10pm and how surreal it felt working in a rush in the kitchen at 1 in the morning. 

We woke up at 7.00am to perform Subuh prayer and then got ready to go to the mosque to perform Hari Raya prayer with the members of the community. Mom brought along  a container of rendang and ketupat for the usual festive potluck where every household would bring their dishes and everything will be combined into a large dish and then served for everyone. We got through the motion calmly but only God knew in my heart how I was feeling giddy because I couldn’t wait for our next agenda; going to grandpa’s house! Yay!

Grandpa’s house was only a stone’s throw away from our house, but as per his instruction, we went there after Raya prayer. I guessed he needs his time alone in the beginning of the day, like me. 

‘Grandpaaa!!!’ I yelled excitedly when I saw his silhouette at the big window on the front of the house. He smiled widely and welcomed us into his house. I kissed his hands and hugged him for a bit before excusing myself to go and help mom with serving the food that we brought. Apparently, grandpa had ordered a variety of traditional Malay food like chicken curry, lodeh and peanut gravy. There were even desserts like jelly cake and brownies. My eyes went big with excitement. Grandpa still remembered how much I love brownies! 

A few families joined us in the small Hari Raya gathering at grandpa’s house but most of them spent only a few hours there; tasting the food, having a small talk with grandpa and chatting among themselves. And off they went to the next destination. I was grateful that dad decided to have the first day of Hari Raya only with grandpa, so at the end of the day, we would still be there to accompany him when other families were long gone. 

Around 5 .00pm the small gathering came to an end as the food was all depleted and no one else was coming. Four of us worked together doing the dishes and reorganizing the furniture and for a moment I realized that I would rather spend my Hari Raya like this, being together with the people I really loved, instead of going from one house to another house making small talks, eating bits and pieces of similar food again and again, and parading around in pretty dresses. I felt complete. 

Would you?