Salam Aidilfitri

Ketupat palas serunding daging,
Nasi dagang ikan tenggiri,
Hidangan enak dari pantai timur.
Buat sahabatku di alam blogging,
Salam ukhuwah di Aidilfitri,
Semuga berkekalan sepanjang umur.

Maaf zahir dan batin dari Oldstock dan famili.

Ar Raudah Mosque in Bukit Batok, Singapore where I'll be performing my Aidilfitri prayers, insyaallah.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To all my blogger friends and everyone who has kindly dropped by, I wish you Happy Holidays. Watch what you eat, okay? Stay cool and see you after the break.

To tide you over until the next post, the following is the first part of my attempt at writing fiction. Just a short story that was first written years ago but re-discovered recently on an old 3.5" floppy. Luckily the file was still intact. Although written some time back, the story is still a work in progress (how's that for procrastinating, huh?).

A BINGO STRAIGHT TO THE HEART (Part 1)

It had been a very trying day. The drizzle that began early that morning further compounded the inevitable traffic jam in Kuala Lumpur on a late Saturday afternoon. My spirits weren’t particularly high that day; it hadn’t been for the past few weeks. There were problems at work and my car’s air-conditioning chose a nice time to run out of gas. Bummer.

I was in the lift lobby of the Ampang Puteri Specialist Hospital, waiting for the elevator to take me up to the 3rd floor where my father was being warded. The lift seemed to take ages to arrive, as things are wont to be whenever you are in a hurry. I had not noticed the tall gentleman standing a few feet behind me when he spoke.

“Assalamualaikum. Sorry… but are you Junainah?”

I turned my head, slightly surprised to see a smartly dressed young man who somehow knew my name.

“Alaikum-salam. Yes, I am.” I replied. The young man’s face does not look familiar to me, but then again, I’m poor at remembering faces.

“You studied at Sheffield Hallam University about 5 years ago, I believe. I don’t think you remember me but I was at your house once in the winter of 1990,” he said. I was searching my memory bank when he continued, “We played Scrabble that day, together with Aida and your housemates. I’m Johari, Aida’s classmate, or former classmate I should say.”

The mention of the Scrabble game suddenly brought the memories flooding back. Of course, now I remember! How can I ever forget that day; it had been a day of many `firsts’….

Update 08.11.2021 : Perhaps it is time for me to complete this short story...