Raya.

Time for forgiveness. For change. Bundled in all the emotions that come with it.

Puasa this year went by like a blur. For the first time in my life, the building anticipation the fasting month gives prior to the day of celebration, was almost non-existent. Bad. In a way, I guess.

Its mixed feelings. With the shit semester taking up more time, resources and energy I could've ever expected, I welcomed the end of it. Our days at the recording studio; writing and rewriting scripts for our documentary and the video clip; cracking our heads open trying to figure out how to capture a damn flower twisting from its branch, floating along with the wind and flying into an open window seemed surreal. Who knew we could get that much work done in such a short time? Having to make full Flash files out of those limited lessons we had caused so many sleepless nights, endless bouts of stress and vented tensions released on unsuspected group mates and significant others. They weren't fun either. Neither were SOC, Law and ETR which gave more or less equal headaches and heartaches to most of the 5th semester classes.

Yet, there was a certain fulfilment in seeing our videos being screened for the first time, hearing our voices and our scripts being used, our names rolling on the credits. Oh the joy of discovering that the link worked on the .swf files. The elation of handing in the final project, saying thank you and packing up after that last presentation and seeing the numbers add up on the excel sheet. Undescribable.

And so it ends. Two and a half years have we been weathering the same obstacles, each producing a different outcome. Sad, but I don't know many of their names, much less spoken a word to most of them. But ultimately, as different as we all may have had been, they understood the challenge and the stigma that has been set upon us; as of which we were born to break. To revolutionize. And we will. It's just a matter of time before nostalgia sets in.

It's almost been two years now, me and Zharif. But strange as it seems, sometimes I feel that there is so much more that I need to learn about him, from him. But at the same time, the comfort between us is like our hearts have known each other for the longest time. They say that if you get through the mandatory one-year-rough-patch, it's the first step to forever. We went through it a bit late. And it was horrible. I cannot count how many times we both gave up during that one month long heated stint. But the fights don't matter, now we look back on it. What mattered was how we pieced US back together. How he took my hand and said that we could try again. And how we managed to take a step back to look at the bigger picture and where it could take us. That was all it took.

I took him home a month ago. It was a first for me. And yesterday we had dinner out with my family at Sri Ayutthya, just for fun. Still, there's so many contradictory bubbles of thoughts bouncing around in my head. What does it all mean? Things just got a little more complicated.

Mama conned us into repainting the house. She has also given me an assignment : a multimedia video of our family tree (just so that everyone will know that they're related like 3 times over). I wonder what Aida's doing.

It scares me to think that the first crack in the Sisterhood's bond could've very well been my fault. It's even more unbearable to think that I might've made the sweetest thing on earth possibly feel like she wasn't wanted. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Someone tell me how to fix it =(

Still, the hardest part of this holiday is over. The routine we have every first raya came and went and once again I wonder if I really did mean all the apologies. Because I know I don't agree with her. I know it is wrong for her to drag us into her shit. I know it isn't fair that she asks such things from us and I know that it is her who needs us; not the other way round. The depth of her sincerety shows with every favour demanded for each good turn and with every verbal and non-verbal reminder she gives. I may be half her age, but this is not the kind of ideals she should be exonarating. It isn't.

Sometimes, I wonder how much I can change.

Anyhow, on the gazillionth random note, Happy Raya people.