Wednesday, October 11, 2006


Iftaring away...

I reached the house immediately after Global Ecology & Biogeography, where I had been forced by Michael to actually learn the basics of Excel. Now, on top of being forever retained in my mind as the rugged tutor-dude who breathes caffeine and goes barefooted in the computer lab, I will forever remember him as the guy who actually took the time to teach me Excel, which I have usually cleverly avoided all these years.

Alhamdulillah. :)

The walk there was straight. Ahead. And I wondered if I was on the right track. I knew I was on the right street, but I wondered if the street went over a few turns, or whether it skivvied into a narrow alley. But walk down the straight and narrow I did, until I reached the Venue.

Eh, wait. This sounds slightly philosophical. But it isn't; not completely. Unless it's my subconscious forming the words as I type. But let's not digress too far ahead.

Once I got in, the smell of spices and the warmth from the kitchen overwhelmed me for a second. Friendly voices greeted me, with a particular one inviting me for jemaah. I took an absent-minded pander before finally resting myself for the afternoon with solat.

My eyes scanned the bookshelves, holding my fascination for more than a second. There were little treasure troves all over the lofty home, and my hands struggle to resist the temptation to open the up the books and curl up on the beanbag in the corner - seclude myself from the rest of the world.

Boy, am I glad I resisted. Because there was much to do.

It all began with a clanger of a crash. And then we abandoned our rested poses in the living room and charged towards the kitchen in due time. Ummu Faiqah* invited me to help with the apples, Ummu Lo'lo'* wanted my 'expertise' for flipping over the chicken wings and popping them back into the oven, and Ummu Zakkirah* suggested that I separate the yolks from the whites, if I could (I used the technique I called 'The Cerita Korea' technique, much to the cynical bemusement of Ummu Lo'lo'. "Well now, let's see it.").

I did the best I could, given the circumstances.

In between, there was a mash of conversations between the four of us in that huge kitchen (how I LOVE that huge kitchen!). I took this rare opportunity to barrage my sisters with questions - about life, and friends, and studies, and clothes, and recipes, and readings. And even though I flitted a lot between the three, I reckon I picked up quite a bit. The hours before sunset flew by as the cooking gained momentum, and the room grew warmer, and the iftar guests filed in.

Ummu Wafak finally came home after a (presumably) strenuous bout of grocery shopping and quietly set to work. That made five of us in the kitchen. Three QCs and their respective 'Mommies' gathered about any available space, and even more people filed about the stove and the oven, waiting for orders to come. Some didn't even bother for instructions, and went about being helpful anyway :P.

And then the welcome sunset arrived.

Dates were quickly consumed, water made the fill, and then the saf started filing in line, row by row. We could not but thank Allah first and foremost. The home did not turn quiet, but a serene light had appeared. We were given time for reflection and quiet thoughts. Muhasabah.

And once everyone was done with solat, we really began the iftaring business. The menu was extensive. We were celebrating someone's birth, and as a result, the desserts were aplenty. Orang meringue pie, apple cake, yoghurt and fruits, and caramel ice cream. Yum.

But Ummu Lo'lo' gave us a deadline for Isya' (followed by tarawih) at Frank Tate. "We leave by 8.05, okay?"

Okay.

Still, when the time came, I didn't really want to leave. In fact, I started inviting myself over for a few nights in the next few weeks. I heard voices saying, "Come lah!", and some seniors laughed at my suggestion of 'some odd night to come'.

InsyaAllah.

But what struck me was how much welcome I was. How warm I felt inside, and hopefully, it wasn't all due to food.

It felt like home.

There's an old, anonymous saying that goes, 'Home is where the heart is.'

These people -- I think that maybe now, they're my heart. <3

Ana uhibbuki fillah, abadan abada.

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this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 2:07 pm

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