Takbiratul Ih/Ikhram

For the first time in 21 years, the most unusual thing happened. The moment the takbir rang through the speakers of our radio to mark the start of Syawal I felt the beginnings of tears pooling in my eyes. It was the first time I had ever experienced such an overwhelming emotion.

It also made me wish that Ramanda had not passed by as fast as it did. I enjoyed Ramadan tremendously this year albeit not being to buka with my family as much as I would like to. I think it's more towards the aspect of having to share food with my friends at school. In that sense, it made buka puasa-ing slightly more special than usual.

Like I said before, I haven't been feeling very festive and frankly, the family has had a pretty trying Ramadan. Actually, it was out-of-this-world bizarre.

Anywayz, we started with the routine we've adopted ever since we moved to Loyang. During our first Raya last year, the first we went to was next door's. This year was no different. Next door's theme color for this year was Pink. I'd say not a bad choice. Ammar looked like a Little Prince Charming in his Pastel Pink baju kurung and Silver kain samping.

Our family's theme color is Green this year and sadly, this backfired. Because every other family we met on the street was wearing Green. Not only that, THREE of my uncles' families on Mom's side wore Green.

Upset, sehh.

It's like we weren't as unique as we believed. Ya lahh...this Madre. This is what you get when you don't consult the family for a family color.

Anywayz, of course there was food all over. We had a whole leg of lamb with ZERO fat at my grandmother's house in Yishun. With Brown Sauce. It was tender, it had some medium rare parts to it; not too bloody not to dry. It was juuuuuust right. Uber shiok.

We took a detour before going to Nanny's house and today I was feeling especially chipper. Partly because I slept at 5am in the morning just so I could finish off the project i had going with Feedz and Bran. So chipper was I that I insisted of calling my grandmother Opah instead of the usual Nanny.

Now, Opah is not usually used by the grandmothers in Singapore. Usually. Because this is kampung slang from the backwaters of Hickville, Malaysia. So you can imagine the glare coming from Nanny's eyes as she attempted to swat at me.

Haah. Opah, Opah. The next time I saw her, I called her Grandmother. Which was pretty danged formal for a person whom at 2 years old couldn't say Granny properly. Hence the term Nanny. But Nanny being the sporting Nanny that she is, received all forms of acknowledgements as long as it still meant that she was my grandmother. Plus, I still got my Raya money from her. And a big one.

Seriously, the day anyone beats the kind of money she gives is the day I'll be giving money back to her.

Laterz...
Lenny