I find it rather disconcerting that one week has lapsed since Ramadan began. Before you know it, Shawal is upon us. And I am still wringing my hands at the kitchen sink, alternately preparing for buka puasa and sahur with hunger in my belly and sleep in my head. Darn it, time flies way too fast. Slow down world, I wanna get off!
For the first time in my adult life, I nodded off while partaking sahur this morning, head bowed low paying homage to a plate of rice. Only when the spoon slid from my grasp, hitting the marble table top in an almighty clatter, was I startled out of my slumber.
It was probably fatigue, I don't know, but it must have been pretty entertaining, for Pak Abu and Naj didn't breathe a word until the spoon clanged. Only then father and son suddenly became very concerned and oh-so helpful. The spectacle must have been worth it.
I recall one hilarious episode concerning my niece Karina (now wife and mother) when she was a teenager a decade ago. Her mother Sofwanah used to be quite a taskmaster when it came to subuh (dawn) prayers. Kak Nah would go from room to room, waking everyone up, prodding the liat (reluctant) ones with a rotan (cane).
My own kids, who used to spend weekends in their aunt's house to be with their cousins, weren't spared either. Mine were naturally liat with a capital L but they were intimidated enough by Kak Nah to meekly submit.
They related to me this story about Karina and her 'special' subuh prayers. Seems that Karina once sujud (prostrated) and promptly fell asleep with her face on the prayer mat and her rear-end hanging engagingly, gently snoring in blissful slumber.
It was her mother who sensed something amiss with the inert, prostrating form, and gave it a hearty shake. And the kids thought their cousin was just trying to score brownie points with a lengthy ayat (verse)!
Gives a whole new meaning to "Bottoms Up!" don't you think?