three strangers and hot porridge
I had a night flight to Penang last Monday. I was supposed to fly with my cousin (we go to the same university) but she already got there two days earlier. so there I was, going straight to the prayer room after arriving.
it’s nothing complicated. it’s just another routine whenever I get to the airport very late at night (and I always opted to travel solo). I know that most airports don’t allow people to stay in the prayer room for safety purposes―the guards will remind you that―but I did it anyway. then in the morning, I’ll get a cab or bus for my next trip to uni.
people came and left that night, but I was the one who stayed a little longer. after some time, I saw someone entered in a rush. she performed her ishak prayer, then she initiated our small talk as she adjusted her shawl. it was nothing serious, just to kill time: where are you from? where are you going? are you alright? so I told her my story. I wasn’t sure if I was being nice to someone I just met or perhaps, I thought I’d never see her again. we bid our goodbye and exchanged salaam, and I resumed my reading. not long after that, she came into the room again. apart from thinking she might leave something there, I saw a concerned remark on her face.
“would you like to come over to my place? we’ll send you tomorrow. it’s cold here and I have daughters, too. so I know it.” she was a lovely woman but I contemplated at first. she asked me if I’m okay with that, again and again, but I didn’t know how to say no. am I doing this right? I rarely talked to strangers whenever I travelled solo, let alone if I met them only in the prayer room, but she insisted. she looked at me like she just found a lost puppy.
so I struggled and packed my stuff with her leading me to the bench outside where her husband was. I guessed she talked about me to her husband first. “this is uncle A.” I nodded, then she introduced herself, “call me auntie Z.” we stretched our talk from family to mawar karim, not realising it was already midnight when we hit the empty road. they asked me if I want something to eat, I said no, but they insisted. so we went to McD’s drive-thru and ordered porridge only, thank you.
“we were in KL to send off our daughter, she was going back to NZ but our flight to here came first, so I was a bit sad. then I found you.” ah, she was just a sad mother. hence, the decisions she made to take me home. “I delayed my prayer but I found you. and I think about it a lot, you know?”
and I think about it too: that I can take care of myself. I know she just meant good, she just wanted to offer me somewhere nice to sleep and she wasn’t afraid of taking me home, too, as I was a complete stranger. in reality, most of us students travel solo in our uni days, and it’s not because our parents are irresponsible or they simply don’t care. I wished people would understand that somehow. nonetheless, auntie Z and uncle A treated me nice, like really nice, and she helped me pay my ticket bus too, so I should stop exaggerating. it was fun while it lasted (I tried to find the picture she tagged me and ummi in on Facebook but she deactivated her account already).
I guess that would be the first time since forever that I thanked God for sending kind strangers to me.
it’s nothing complicated. it’s just another routine whenever I get to the airport very late at night (and I always opted to travel solo). I know that most airports don’t allow people to stay in the prayer room for safety purposes―the guards will remind you that―but I did it anyway. then in the morning, I’ll get a cab or bus for my next trip to uni.
people came and left that night, but I was the one who stayed a little longer. after some time, I saw someone entered in a rush. she performed her ishak prayer, then she initiated our small talk as she adjusted her shawl. it was nothing serious, just to kill time: where are you from? where are you going? are you alright? so I told her my story. I wasn’t sure if I was being nice to someone I just met or perhaps, I thought I’d never see her again. we bid our goodbye and exchanged salaam, and I resumed my reading. not long after that, she came into the room again. apart from thinking she might leave something there, I saw a concerned remark on her face.
“would you like to come over to my place? we’ll send you tomorrow. it’s cold here and I have daughters, too. so I know it.” she was a lovely woman but I contemplated at first. she asked me if I’m okay with that, again and again, but I didn’t know how to say no. am I doing this right? I rarely talked to strangers whenever I travelled solo, let alone if I met them only in the prayer room, but she insisted. she looked at me like she just found a lost puppy.
so I struggled and packed my stuff with her leading me to the bench outside where her husband was. I guessed she talked about me to her husband first. “this is uncle A.” I nodded, then she introduced herself, “call me auntie Z.” we stretched our talk from family to mawar karim, not realising it was already midnight when we hit the empty road. they asked me if I want something to eat, I said no, but they insisted. so we went to McD’s drive-thru and ordered porridge only, thank you.
“we were in KL to send off our daughter, she was going back to NZ but our flight to here came first, so I was a bit sad. then I found you.” ah, she was just a sad mother. hence, the decisions she made to take me home. “I delayed my prayer but I found you. and I think about it a lot, you know?”
and I think about it too: that I can take care of myself. I know she just meant good, she just wanted to offer me somewhere nice to sleep and she wasn’t afraid of taking me home, too, as I was a complete stranger. in reality, most of us students travel solo in our uni days, and it’s not because our parents are irresponsible or they simply don’t care. I wished people would understand that somehow. nonetheless, auntie Z and uncle A treated me nice, like really nice, and she helped me pay my ticket bus too, so I should stop exaggerating. it was fun while it lasted (I tried to find the picture she tagged me and ummi in on Facebook but she deactivated her account already).
I guess that would be the first time since forever that I thanked God for sending kind strangers to me.