It was a strange Merdeka Celebration indeed.
We had just come home from Kota Bharu visiting and beraya. By the time we got back, it was close to midnight. Rudy sent the girls home and asked me if I wanted to go out again.
I was very tired.
But then he said, "Ada orang main dikir,"
knowing full well I would jump up and follow him.
We went by motorbike. Me riding pillion. And arrived just in time for the fireworks. In Kelantan, mercun is always spectacular.
It was a modest clearing. There were Malaysian flags everywhere. No party signs, not one single one. The dikir group was already assembled. Rudy met his cousins and friends. After greeting family, I stood transfixed, enjoying the calm festive camaraderie. Wholesomeness.
The songs were familiar to me. But the last one got to me.
A way of life
As I was about to leave, I was a bit teary. It was quite emotional, this simple celebration.
Then I saw their photos on the wall.
Six Prime Ministers.
Tunku. Tun Razak. Tun Hussein Onn. Tun Mahathir. Pak Lah. Najib Razak.
Selamat Hari Merdeka. My Country.