The morning was bright, with birds chirping in the trees. Mastura glanced at the clock on her phone, 7 am. "Saturday," she whispered to herself, before drifting back to sleep.Just as she was about to fall into a dream, she was struck with a pillow. Her older sister, Mashitah, wearing an annoying expression, shook her awake. "Hey, wake up! I've already call you so many times.We need to get moving early,"Mashitah said.Her voiced tinged with irritation.Mastura sat in quite contemplation,her mind still processing what her sister had just said." Get moving early? Oh my God... how could I forget?"she muttered, springing out of bed and heading toward the bathroom. Mashitah watched her younger sister's behaviour and shook her head with a mix of amusement and exasperation on her face.
They carefully loaded their belongings into the trunk of the bright red Kenari, which gleamed under the morning sun and it had just been washed. Once everything was packed, the two sister got into the car.Mashitah started the engine. "Okay, everything's ready, and I'm sure we've got all the stuff," she said.Mastura smiled and nodded. Inside, she was brimming with excitement, eager to see their parents after spending so much time at university. Both of them studied at the same university. Fortunately, their mother own a house fairly close to the campus, so they never had to apply for a dormitory. The sisters were only a year apart and shared many similar interests, which made them very close.They always went everywhere together. They also had an older brother, Rafiq, ten years older than them.
During the journey, they shared countless stories from their campus advantures to their plans for when they reach the village. Mastura turned on the radio, and Raya songs filled the car.it was normal, Raya songs were usually played a week before the festival, and sometimes it was the listeners requests. "Let's stop for prayer first, then we can continue," Mashitah said to her younger sister, Mastura. Since childhood, they had been raised with strong religious values, expecially when it came to maintaining their prayers. It had always been their duty and responsibility as Muslims.Doing good deeds, following Allah, and avoiding what He forbids is essential. As Allah says"And protect yourselves from sin, which not only befall the wrongdoers among you specifically, but may affect you all generally. And know that Allah's punishment is severe".
After a long journey, they finally arrived at their hometown. Mastura's eyes lit up as she took in the sight of the village house. The atmosphere was calming, even though the sun was blazing overhead. They reached their parents house at last. Mastura jump out of the car, running excitedly toward the front of the house. Mashitah, who had been driving alone the entire way, could only smile with a mix of amusement and fatigue. Mastura couldn't drive yet, and even if she could, she didn't have a licence. "Assalamualaikum!," Mastura called out loudly, her voice carrying across the yard. The house door opened slowly, and a man wearing a white kopiah stepped out. It was their father. "Waalaikumsalam", he reply in a calm tone. Mastura, seeing her father, run upstairs and greeted him with a warm handshake. "Dad, how are you? Where is mom?", she asked. "Your mom went to the market just now" he answered briefly.
Their father, Muazzin better known as Pak Zin by the villagers was one of the bilal at the village surau. He was strict with his children, expecially when it came to matters of religion and manners, but very loving toward them. That was the nature of a father, besides providing for his family, he always tried to spend time with them, even when tired or busy. Although he serve as a bilal, Muazzin also had a large farm to manage, which kept him occupied at times. "where's your brother?," he asked. "He said, InsyaAllah, he will come on the second day of Raya. He has some work to finish first," Mastura replied.Mashitah looked exhausted from carrying the luggage . Seeing this, Mastura immediately stepped in to help her sister, carrying their belongings inside the house.
They all sat together in the living room, chatting and laughing. Just then, the front door creaked open, followed by a warm greeting of "Assalamualaikum! ". Mashitah turned toward the door and saw the person they had been waiting for. Their mother, Rahimah or more fondly known as Kak Mah by the villagers. Kak Mah was a caring mother who always paid close attention to her children's education. At night, she often taught the village kids to recite the Quran and during the day she would help Pak Zin in the farm. The sisters quickly stood up to greet her. Mashitah stepped forward to help carry the groceries into the kitchen, putting them neatly into the fridge. "Wow! There are already Raya cookies!" said Mastura with cheerful excitement. "This Raya might feel a little quieter, most of the relatives couldn't make it, even your aunt said she's not sure if she can come," Kak Mah said with a face of sadness.
"That's okay, we're here, aren't we? Besides, brother will home on the second day of Raya," Mashitah replied with a warm smile, trying to comfort her mother as she placed a jar of bahulu on the coffee table. Pal Zin glanced at them briefly before returning his attention to the television, a small smile forming on his face." Tonight, let's go to the surau, there's a guest speaker from out town coming, after that we can stop by the warung for a while," Pak Zin suggested. "Let's go!" both sisters answer in unison, their voices filled with excitement. Kak Mah chuckled softly, her heart warming at the sight of her daughter's enthusiasm. It had been a while since the house had been filled with their lively voices. Mashitah often insisted that their parents didn't visit too often, not because she didn't want want to see them, but because she worried about the strain of the long trip on their ageing parents. Most of the times, their brother would drive them to visit instead.