The Monsoon Wedding
My son Karim and I left for Kuala Terengganu on Christmas Eve, boarding the bus at nine at night and arriving sometime around six in the morning. No matter how often I’ve taken that route, the long bus ride has never been comfortable for me—especially in the cold.
We were there to attend the wedding of one of my grandnieces. I quietly named it The Monsoon Wedding, as we were nearly caught in floods on the journey home, and the rain never really let up while we were there. The food was good, and the crowd was mostly a mix of Indian Muslims and Malays. Still, I wasn’t entirely at ease and chose to leave early.
What became the true blessing of the trip—for both Karim and me—was a chance meeting with my eldest brother’s family. His three children and their own children had come from KL, Kerteh, and even Holland. It was especially meaningful for Karim, who last met them nearly twenty years ago, when they were children themselves.
My eldest brother is ten years older than me. He is now 87.
The only moment that threatened to cast a shadow over the trip was my daughter’s decision to cancel her journey after a small incident involving the kittens that somehow grew out of proportion. In hindsight, it feels very much like a blessing in disguise. With the constant rain, delays, and detours, she would not have enjoyed the trip anyway.
All in all, the journey was a success.
Closing Reflection (optional ending paragraph)
Perhaps rain is not always an inconvenience. Sometimes it narrows the path so that only what truly matters remains. In the end, there was family, a shared table, familiar faces resurfacing after decades, and a quiet sense that what did not happen was as much a mercy as what did.
Wallahu a‘lam.
Hashtags (horizontal format, blog-ready)
#TheMonsoonWedding #FamilyReunion #RainAndMercy #JourneyNotes #UnexpectedBlessings #TravelReflections #Terengganu #ChristmasEveJourney #LifeInBetween #WallahuAlam #QuietGratitude #AgingGracefully
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