The (Mad) Night Before Raya

Sunday, 20th November 2005

The Night Before Raya found me with blistered feet, an aching posterior and bruised limbs, coupled with fading hope and lost inspiration. My Halal One, my strong and selectively stoic Azim-the-husband-of-seven-months, put up quite an impressive show of determination though I knew his insides were screaming for some sort of saving grace.

The (almost) hopeless cause?

Halal One and I, upon reaching Singapore just the day before, were absolutely baju-less for Hari Raya Day One. We were in dire straits while in Geylang, searching for that perfect couple coloured set of bajus to sashay into Hari Raya One with pengantin baru (or basi) panache.

Hari Raya Day One Baju Debut is imperative for Days Two and Three and hence to follow through effectively. Plus, as (still) newlyweds on our first Raya stint, additional pressure was upon us to make our Day One Baju mark successfully. Bonus points will of course be added should our Day One getup be of the same colour. Failing which, future plethoras of Raya pictures would be viewed with strained smiles and shattered pride. And that spot-on horrified gasp of "I can't believe I wore that!".

A chock-full, sweaty and shrill Geylang did not help matters much. Rumour has it, Geylang Serai carparks were pre-occupied well in advance by sadistic car-owners who actually have no business parking in Geylang at all but get cheap thrills from watching frantic last-minute Raya shoppers tear hair out in search of a viable (i.e. tak kena saman) spot to park their four-wheelers in. I, in turn, hate circling carparks for that elusive parking space. So, we parked the car a good distance from Geylang Serai itself and took a short cab ride (with a grumpy driver) to the heart of the bazaar. Actually, I did not know where to start for the baju hunt so Halal One told Grumpy to stop us at gates of the Malay Village. There, I fervently hoped, would be where the heart is.

I was wrong. There is no heart. Geylang Serai on the Night Before Raya is a huge, pulsating aortic pump, surged with happy campers with festive Raya moods, fueled by the prospect of rendang, ketupats, kuih tarts and green packets come morning.

Thus a wrong turn into the wrong bazaar alley could trap one in a tsunami of people where walking becomes moot as getting from Point A to Point B would involve one's next step carried along each wave of collective forward movement. Many a time, I could have sworn I grabbed someone's perky butt in order to steady and prevent myself from tripping up and causing the bevy of lanky teenagers in front of me to fall into each other, domino-like. Undoubtedly, Halal One held my hand so tightly, his knuckles turned white but there were times when my eyes were misted over and I lost his grip because I was waylaid by a pretty accessory or a nice slutty kebaya top (to add on to the shameless amount I already have!). That would be when I present myself as fair game to being tripped up and knocked down by beefy mats and busty minahs. (Yes, I am a living example of every girl needs her hero, mine being my Halal One. Heh.)

We finally pushed (or rather carried) ourselves through the throng of Geylangers to emerge dishevelled but triumphant at our own Point B -Joo Chiat Complex. There we made our way to my favourite shops where an hour of sifting through hangers and racks only resulted in heightened panic and further frustration. Where the perfect baju for me would either not have my size or have a matching one for him in his size, if at all. I even compromised my choice of colours (and I had a few colours in mind) but that late into Ramadhan would actually warrant dirty looks from shop girls if I actually bothered asking specifically for navy blue, off-white and peach in specific sizes and specific cuts. They'd rather give me a couple of tie-dyed potato sacks and send me on my way.

So we would just stride into any shop and ask for what's left for me that's not to mumsy and has a matching baju kurung lelaki for Halal One. Not many had any.

I even braved myself to step into Gihan's Closet, knowing full well they were way over my budget (yes,a tad too over-priced sometimes, that place!) but even Gihan failed to fulfill. I was beside myself with naked terror.

So we braved the throng (and now, the rain!) again to make our way to Point C - Tanjong Katong Complex (or otherwise known as Yokoso, by my nenek. For reasons I will never fathom). On the way there, I got severely distracted by the pretty bungas, the fishball char kueh, the one particular popular Ramly Burger stall and the sugar cane juice. By the time I reached Tanjong Katong Complex...okay,okay...Yokoso, I was plenty bloated and this further dampened my mood. So I literally stamped my way to AC Collections, where a pretty black baju kurung with colourful embroidery hung above my head on a dismembered limbless plastic torso. Sadly, the matching black baju for the Halal One was not to his liking. I was thisclose to blurting out heartlessly, "Who cares what you think?! It's the only one left in your size and I have reached the point where I can't feel my feet!" and risk the love of my life but I held on to my last thread of sanity and trudged on, in search of that salvation I was almost losing sight of. It also did not bode well for me that it was two hours to midnight and the crowds were still swelling and we were still searching.

But salvation came in the form of Anisah's Collection, Tingkat Tiga, Tepi Tangga (Tangga Bergerak, mind you!). Really. No kidding.

I really liked Kak Anisah's stuff. Her bajus for the ladies are in delicious cheery colours and are A-line cut with an outer layer of sheer fabric to disguise any bumps and lumps. Unique embroidery adorns each item and she doesn't have many in each size so you can count on the odds of not turning up somewhere, someplace with the same darn outfit as the next girl, unless it's really not your day. No, I've never actually bought a baju from her before but I've heard good things and I was not disappointed.

Kak Anisa pointed out a few set pieces I immediately fell in love with. A light cobalt blue kebaya, a pink mini-kurung and a bright green baju kurung. Best of all, she assured me she was sure she still had a matching men's baju in the colours she showed me for my Halal One, so I was liberated from restricting myself to trying on pieces that only still had a matching one for him.
At the end of a finally fruitful hour and three bajus later, we got our couple outfit at a very cool price (which is another reason why I am now a big fan of Anisah's Collection!). All that sweaty, sticky, surging Geylang time was justified as I was satisfied. That green thing with the flower bits for me and that green thing with the silver-edged bits for him and we're sold. It's in the books, we're going green this year (for Day One,at least!). I was happy, happy, happy (though sometimes, I felt like a Schwan-Stabilo highlighter with hair and some other times I felt like a big green booger).

Yet, with my Halal One by my side, I knew, like all of you on your first day of Hari Raya, at most times, I was lookin' (and feelin') pretty grand in green.

And since our Hari Raya Day One was such a hit, Hari Raya Days Hence till we had to leave Singapore for Dubai, followed suit and that Raya Grinch that reared it's ugly head last year was hardly seen at all this time, though I miss my Daddy, even though he hardly spent Raya with us properly in the last years of his life.

I'll have the pictures up as soon as I'm free to upload the one trillion pictures from my 1 GB card. Right about now, I'm studying for my yearly SEP refresher and tearing my hair out, in hefty chunks.

Oh well.

Hope y'all had a Rockin' Raya.

Till we Rendang Rock again come 2006.