a dilemma

Last weekend was the beginning of Ramadhan. I went back to KL (as usual) to celebrate the first day of Ramadhan with my family and beloved husband. Being married means you have an extra family. Being the good couple we are (^_^), we always try to be fair as much as possible in going back to our parents’ homes. Their homes are ours, too, anyway. I always believe that this is a very crucial part of married life - to ensure that both sides get equal share. We women have to make sure that we don't get greedy and keep our husbands to ourselves only. Kesian kat family diorang.

To be fair to both sides, we decided that we would sahur in Maluri (my place) on Saturday and then commute to Klang (qayyum's place) after Subuh. Berbuka will be in Klang. The following sahur would be in Klang and after Subuh we'd be heading back to Maluri. So all in all, both sides would get approximately 24 hours of us. Sounds tiring? Heheh. At some point, you'll get used to it.

Traveling from Maluri to Klang means having to use the KTM Komuter. The trains to Klang has had a bad reputation amongst us because of their frequent delays. Alhamdulillah, their system worked well that weekend and there were no delays of trains. Otherwise, our pahala puasa would surely be at risk of being deducted! Or come to look at it from a different angle, it could have actually opened an avenue for us to collect extra pahala puasa. Ain't life easy?

On Sunday before going back to Maluri, we had a couple of pit-stops to go. The first stop was Pekeliling to purchase the bus ticket for me to return to Kuantan later that evening. Next was Pustaka Mukmin in Jalan Tar for Qayyum to buy several Law textbooks. From Klang to Pekeliling to Jalan Tar to Maluri, we utilised the KTM Komuter, Monorel, and STAR LRT.

So there we were, the two of us with the backpacks on our back in the midst of hustle and bustle of a city life. Throngs of people crowded the train station, fighting silently for seats. Streams of cars lined the busy roads, polluting the air with fumes of smoke rich with carbon monoxide. People of young and old, rich and poor, citizens and foreigners appeared from every nook and cranny of the city. Nobody seemed to be withheld by the hunger and thirst of Ramadhan. Life went on as usual.

Students are a common sight in KL, especially in the areas of KL Sentral and Jalan Tar. One could easily identify them from the way they dress, the looks on their face, and the bags they carry on their back - just like we did. So in a glimpse from afar, we would be perceived as two students walking about aimlessly in the morning of Ramadhan.

Suddenly a thought striked me...

Picture this: Two Muslim students of opposing genders holding hands, walking about in Jalan Tar laughing gleefully at one another's jokes..in the train they sit very closely with their arms hooked together, conversing endlessly..

hey, isn't this Ramadhan?

and they have the audacity to act shamelessly in public in the midst of Ramadhan???

Tak puasa ke diorang tu? Bulan puasa pun boleh lagi nak buat maksiat?? ish2..

If you were a person, a stranger, you wouldnt have known that we're actually already married, would you? And the thoughts above would easily be played in your mind. It would be much different if I were a person who wears tudung labuh or tudung 60" because then people would be kinder and immediately guessed that we're married. But I wore a blouse and a pants and a 45" tudung. I was modest and covered. Yet I bore a typical student appearance, an appearance that wouldn't instigate people's mind to think that perhaps this girl is already married.

This is nobody's fault to blame. But it made me feel uneasy..

Uneasy because we could easily tarnish Islam's reputation by 'portraying' ourselves as Muslims who don't know better, who couldn't care less. Uneasy because we could be wrongly exemplified as Muslims who are not married but are cool with holding hands thereby acknowledging this act. It's a dilemma, people. A dilemma that has been unjustly imposed on us. At least on me.

I wanted to get married to shoo away fitnah yet fitnah is what I can easily create in a wrong place at a wrong time. I have never really thought about this until yesterday.

It's unfair, really. This generalisation is inaccurate. And bersangka baik is all that it takes to prevent such misunderstanding. But bersangka baik is hard when it is so obvious that there are MANY unmarried youngsters who do not observe rightful muamalah. Again, it's a dilemma!

Do I start wearing a larger-sized tudung? Or do I start wearing a flowery mak-mak blouse/dress to make me look twenty years older? Should do I colour my fingers with henna and flash my blaring-red fingers to signify my status as a married person? Sometimes I simply feel like wearing a tag with big letters spelling WE'RE MARRIED..