Now, it’s three a.m, and today is eid Mubarak. Doubt running through my head, why do we celebrate it one day later than any other countries..? Maybe they have different ways to interpret the taqweem. Never mind, as long as I have the chance to celebrate it, I’m happy.
And,of course, I miss home. I miss our traditional food -Buras, I miss spending quality time with my families, pray Eid together in the mosque and not to forget- pay a visit to the graveyard.
I remember one night, I was standing all alone, waiting for ‘auto'( indian cab) to get back to the hostel. It was a black, pitch night, and the rains started to pour down. With just merely a layer of cloth, I was shaking and shivering. I tried to wave my hands, signaling to the autos, but they were fully occupied. I was alone. Well, actually I just had my dentist appointment, not that I went out for shopping, for I need an assistant, or a chaperone, or a friend. That time, I was crying. I remember my parents, they will never allow me to go out at night, especially ALONE. They maybe even grounded me for breaking the curfew. I firmly believe if they knew about this, they will rush to see me..
The significant made me registered the word, ‘homesick’ in my dictionary. Yap, it was so severe, that the tears rolled,as fast as the rains. Frankly speaking, it was even a little bit faster.
And now, I could only whisper ‘ Eid MUbarak’ from far.. I miss everyone in the house!