puasa revisited

A long time ago, when I was 13, I first experienced puasa away from home. Of course, to some parents, this would be deemed as a cruelty, to deny their children the comfort of a home n home cooked meals n family togetherness. As for me, the years in boarding school build one’s character, it sort of gives one a backbone, so to speak.

Those times r something which I treasure very much. N yes, puasa for the first time away from home can be disheartening, most will be homesick (a word that exists in all boarding school citizens’ vocabulary). I now look upon those times with nostalgia, as I remember those days …

Sahur would mean that we would be awakened at 4.30am by our gigantic version of an alarm clock i.e. the bell of the Dewan Makan. With eyes half opened, we would cover our nightgowns with shirts n kain batik (it’s a rule to enter DM with kain n not slacks or PJs for that matter) n with our forks n spoons we would walk unsteadily to the DM. sahur was always a silent affair.

Buka puasa was a noisy affair, with every table laden with food till there was no space available. We would have sirap selasih which I detest so much bcoz the selasih resembles frogs eggs, or air cincau which I love so much. The rest was the same menu we had throughout the year. That also meant having ice cream on Mondays n Thursdays.

After buka puasa, the girls would rush to do ablutions n then rush to the school hall to perform terawih. We only got to pray in the surau when it was completed when I was in form 4. anyway, it was in seri puteri that I learnt how to perform terawih properly. Now, some 15 years later, as I recite the tasbih n selawat, I’m reminded of the girlish melodious chants during those nites in ramadhan.

Sales of maggi n stamps would rise meteorically, the former was the staple food for those who were experiencing that time of the month, n stamps, well, we simply loved sending n receiving raya cards. After school we would flock at the mailboxes situated next to the prefects room. We would eagerly wait for the prefect on duty to slot in mails into the respective classes’ pigeonholes.

During weekends, we would crowd the small radio that a girl would have in the dorm, just to listen to the raya songs. Most of the time, there were girls who were feeling homesick n some were teary-eyed.

As the finale to our ramadhan, we would have our annual salam raya when we would recite selawat n the most junior would go round n salam the most senior. The most anticipated event is when when the girls were released from school. Shouts of “0-0” could be heard, while the English n bm bulletin issues, Grapevine (of which I was a member from form 2-4) n Media Puteri would be out. Never mind that the teachers gave us loads of homework. Never mind that some were demerited for speaking in bahasa in English week….Yay! Balik kampong! The KLites would wait for their parents to fetch them, the northerners would board their trains, while the easterners would have to wait until night time to board the bus.

I miss those days. U’re far away from home, n yet, u’re comforted by the thought that there were some 400 frens who shared all the humdrums n daily routines with u.

To seri puterians, especially to 5 ilmu yahoogroups – zana, shidah, normi, ina, nita, june, ella n anne…

Remember those days… selamat berpuasa n selamat hari raya aidilfitri

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