A cool breeze swept across the face. Bright lights illuminate the beautiful dome. Starry dots scattered across the dark sky. It was squashed by a loud voice that beckoned in the distance ringing around the dome. A voice urging us to pray. I sat there, in the middle of the UKM Mosque. Looking sideways and backwards. As if searching for someone. I waited and waited. He didn’t come. A dear friend of mine was supposed to be meeting me here tonight. And suddenly I remembered that he couldn’t be here. Not now. I smirked and laughed by myself. Half-cursing him. He’ll only be back tomorrow I remembered.
A thought gathered pace inside me. This was the same spot that I sat to meet up with friends at the mosque. It’s been 11 years I think. I don’t know why but we usually tend to meet up at this very same spot without even discussing about it beforehand. Memories were carved here.
I pondered, Ramadhans had always been dear to me. Trials and tribulations followed by success and happiness. And it always had a major impact on me as person and how I see life. But the early memories always stick the most.
Year after year pass by and we seldom notice nor care about how it had pass us by. We treat is as routine time and again. There are many things associated with Ramadan. Grown-ups treat it differently with that of a kid. As a kid, fasting was something that is considered an achievement that would make you be in the league of grown-ups. Did we know why were fasting then? No. Did we understand the significance of the month? The Tarawih prayers? No. But fasting was something you want to do as a child. It was thrilling to say the least. Childhood memories. We all had them. Yours might be the same as mine or may be totally different, but here are some to share. Continue reading “Remember Ramadhan?”