I am soooooo terrible.
Yesterday my brother Mail finally came home for good. He was expected to arrive at 7 am and therefore before I went to work, I swung by Mum’s house to see him.
I was fasting, my second day actually. I sahur at 11.30 pm (while I watched Ghost Hunter…. Seram gila, tukar channel halfway… he he) with kari ikan made by my mom, timun and kuah kacang. Heaven.
So what has that got to do with my brother or my terrible-ness ? Well… if you are at your mom’s house, where you grew up eating her food, and you know there will always be food somewhere…. Well the inevitable happened.
In my defence, it was morning and I was… well…. I wasn’t even hungry.
Okay, my legs was on automatic, it just took me to the dining table… as you know that was what they usually do when the entered the house. I announced that if there were food, I was going to break my fast. I of course was joking… I didn’t mean that. Marlin however shouted, “You’d better not, A…. Nanti ko mesti bukak puasa punya…”
It was too late. And I was in euphoric mood. You know my brother being home (not a convincing argument at all), and out of habit I lifted the tudung saji and lo and behold, there were rows and rows and rows of beefy French toast. They shone and were mesmerizing that I stared and stared and stared.
I didn’t think, I grabbed one, break a small piece, dipped it in the kuah cuka and put it in my mouth. Then I chewed, closed my eyes in ecstasy and swallowed. Then I took another bite. Mail came to join me and we both ate like there was no tomorrow. “I don’t believe aku bukak puasa…” I muttered over and over again.
Mail who had been living on a diet of Indian food could not answer.
Marlin was right, I shouldn’t have ventured into the dining room.
Ya Allah, I couldn’t believe I wasted my sahur !! Forgive me….
So today, I am fasting and didn’t go anywhere near my mom’s.
Yesterday my brother Mail finally came home for good. He was expected to arrive at 7 am and therefore before I went to work, I swung by Mum’s house to see him.
I was fasting, my second day actually. I sahur at 11.30 pm (while I watched Ghost Hunter…. Seram gila, tukar channel halfway… he he) with kari ikan made by my mom, timun and kuah kacang. Heaven.
So what has that got to do with my brother or my terrible-ness ? Well… if you are at your mom’s house, where you grew up eating her food, and you know there will always be food somewhere…. Well the inevitable happened.
In my defence, it was morning and I was… well…. I wasn’t even hungry.
Okay, my legs was on automatic, it just took me to the dining table… as you know that was what they usually do when the entered the house. I announced that if there were food, I was going to break my fast. I of course was joking… I didn’t mean that. Marlin however shouted, “You’d better not, A…. Nanti ko mesti bukak puasa punya…”
It was too late. And I was in euphoric mood. You know my brother being home (not a convincing argument at all), and out of habit I lifted the tudung saji and lo and behold, there were rows and rows and rows of beefy French toast. They shone and were mesmerizing that I stared and stared and stared.
I didn’t think, I grabbed one, break a small piece, dipped it in the kuah cuka and put it in my mouth. Then I chewed, closed my eyes in ecstasy and swallowed. Then I took another bite. Mail came to join me and we both ate like there was no tomorrow. “I don’t believe aku bukak puasa…” I muttered over and over again.
Mail who had been living on a diet of Indian food could not answer.
Marlin was right, I shouldn’t have ventured into the dining room.
Ya Allah, I couldn’t believe I wasted my sahur !! Forgive me….
So today, I am fasting and didn’t go anywhere near my mom’s.
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