I was at the KLIA airport last night. My mom and my brothers were coming home from Mecca. They were there for twelve days for Umrah (minor Haj).Their flight landed earlier than scheduled, that is at 9.15pm, and when we reached there, the time was 9.20pm. We looked for a spot that they can easily see us, but the place were crowded with people waiting for their relatives, friends and also some tour guides.
Among those waiting were a group of African. My guessed is that they are students, as all of them look young. There were about twenty of them including four females. I was standing two feet away from them, and this gave me the opportunity to observe them.
What I saw reminded me of my time when I was a student in US. We were always together, and we take care of each other. Whenever someone went back home, the whole bunch of us would be sending him or her to the airport. Ahhh... sweet memories.
When their two friends came out, everybody greeted and crowded them. Most of them were excited to see their friends. Maybe, they were asking how’s thing back at home. There was one guy busy recording the arrival of their new friends.
I didn’t see when they left as I was busy looking at the stewardesses that passed in front of me. My niece and me were commenting about their uniform, and I have to say that I like the Korean Air stewardess. They are so beautiful, and their skins, ahhh…indescribable. Shhh!!!!… I can’t tell that to my brother-in-law who is crazy about Korean girl.
Groups after groups of people have passed us, but my mom was still not out. My kids were getting restless, and kept reminding me about the time. Suddenly, we saw a group of people, with green sling bag came out. We were excited and started to search for my mom.
After about ten minutes of searching, then my niece said, “There they are.” I looked at the exit where the earlier group came out. “Not there,” she said and pointed to the other exit.
There, I saw abang Zahir pushing the trolley, and followed by Bang Ngah, who was walking slowly and holding my mom hand. My mom looked so old and frail but happy. Her tudung was askew, but who cares.
We went and greeted them. My mom lost her voice, and she was not feeling well. My Bang Ngah was not well too. The only fit and healthy person is my bang Zahir.
My bang Zahir has bought the ticket to take him and my mom to Seremban. So we walked slowly to the door number 3, where the taxis were, and there was a long queue. Syafiq slowly walked his grandmother to the queue, but when I saw a bench outside, I asked Syafiq to take his Uwan there.
While waiting for my mom to sit, Bang Ngah told me that mom was very weak. She didn’t eat well there. His said that he never seen mom so old as when he saw her during Tawaf. I looked at her and indeed she looked much older than before she left for Umrah.
I joined her after my short conversation with Bang Ngah. She was happy even though she cannot go to Raudhah as there was no female family members that could take her there. But she still able to say her doa.
When the taxi came, Syafiq took her to the taxi, but they have to get the bigger taxi, which the queue is at the door no 5. The Proton Waja cannot fit all their bags. I held her hand and together we walked to the door no 5.
Luckily, it was not a long wait. In fact, the taxi was there already. I opened up the door for her to enter. I hugged and kissed her before I closed the door. This time, all the bags can fit into the car.
When they left, It was almost twelve. The kids were hungry and tired. My husband took us to Mac Donald for a quick snack, and by the time we were on the way home, it was past midnight.
The kids were immediately knocked out, and when we reached home, it was 1’o clock in the morning, but I have to continue and finished up some work for the office. I only went to bed at 3 in the morning. Luckily I’m on leave today.
Salam.
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