..sweet sorrow..

..the rain came early this year in Bachok..the days and nights are cooler..already in his fifth day of fasting for the non-obligatory six days fast in the month of Syawal, the oldster felt relaxed..he had partaken his sahur alone...in the wee hours before dawn..the missus being indisposed after a stint at the hospital a day earlier... a minor operation of the left eye..removal of a growth that threatened..pterygium..

..only the cats, a blind tabby with her surviving two-month old kitten, stirred..as he tried to enjoy the self-prepared hot bowl of canned soup, by dipping bread, he remembered the sahurs of Ramadhan..every member of the family crowding a round table..the unceasing chatter of siblings rivalry..and the clatter of utensils from neighboring kitchens..and houses all lit up..and even at that wee hours, sporadic reports of fireworks..

..traffic in Bachok has thinned out..from whence they came, they had returned..bringing back with them their parents hopes and dreams..as they had traveled back home on a prayer..they had started their returned also on a prayer...with their hearts full of joy, tinged with sweet sorrow, and boots filled with little things hastily packed by grandfathers and mothers, for their grandchildren and children..

..Ramadhan has receded into quiet memory..and with Syawal eleven days along the way, a brand new year awaits..

..as he finished his bowl of soup and recited the doa for tomorrow's fast, he silently prayed..grant me longevity, O Lord, that I may greet Ramadhan's return...