A happy Eidilfitri to all my Muslim friends.
I went for the prayers this morning in the drizzle, and since it was held outdoors, we were all quite soaked by the time it ended. But for the first time ever, something struck me deep when I was in the middle of it, and I stood in vain trying to struggle with the tears. I have no clue what it was, really, but I believe it was something in me that was so moved and stirred by the greatness of all these.
How fortunate I was to be born into this faith, and to have a family who worked hard to show their children how rewarding it can be when one truly believes. How lucky I am to still have grandparents who always cooks a feast, (by that I mean, a real feast with big pots and charcoal stoves) for their grandchildren, -although one has rheumatism and bad eyesight, and the other tends to forget too quickly. How fortunate I am to have a father who is overprotective, and a mother who truly knows what her children wants.
It shouldn't matter that I do not own pretty clothes, with matching shoes and bags to go along. It shouldn't matter that I do not have enough in my bank to travel or get a fancy car. It shouldn't matter that perhaps I will never get to own a house with a pool and garden.
Cos nothing I had mentioned can beat the feeling of having so much love and knowing it.
