I
Waiting for subuh rant.
One of the concerns why raising a kid as a moslem in four seaons country is PERSONALLY hard is about the prayer time.
Subuh at 2.50, Isya is close to midnight, and it would be even earlier/later as summer comes, let alone a kid, it is a struggle too for an adult. Summer is not an only problem. Winter comes with different set of problem too. When all three prayer times would be done during school hours.
Once wrote in my note four years ago, among many objections to leave London during covid, this reason alone became the strongest pull to return and made me put aside all the other concerns.
Tempat-tempat seperti ini, secara pribadi, hanya cocok untuk dikunjungi dalam waktu beberapa hari.
Berat hidup di luar negeri, meskipun sudah (amat sangat) eneg sama pemerintah sendiri.
II
“Is it xxx part of the gang?”
has been the constant questions the little girl asked for the past few months.
When the answer is yes, no other questions asked. When it’s a no, the respond would be, “Oh great, that means we can still have it, right?”.
Traveling to a country whose governmenrt support the bastard of all evil gives certain guilty feeling inside. Fixing and straighten the niat why we go here is done repeatedly.
Trying to be mindful of what we consume and answer with, “I am sorry, Be, but, that’s part of the gang” as much as possible is the only thing this current level of iman could consistently do for the past few months.
III
The little girl soaked her pink knit slip-on sneakera while she was playing sling on the playground yesterday.
I took the picture of then-clean-nice-pink-shoes-now-fully-covered-with-mud and thought, when I posted in a social media the caption would be :
“A childhood full of adventures”.
In reality it went like this :
“Aduh Be, ini sepatu pink, knit jadi kotor gitu. Basah semua, yang bener aja dong. Bisa ilang ngga kaya gini. Makanya mami bilang tadi pake hiking boots aja. (Dalem hati, “untung murah”).
Never fully trust everything that you see on social media.
A Penny for My Pensieve 