By H.M. Amzar
Dear Ami,
In the heart of a village, beneath the shade of a rambutan tree stands a pangkin. The air is filled with the soft whispers of the wind, and the melody of birds' chirping fills the silence. On the worn wooden pangkin, Aisha rests. Her presence blends well with the gentle breeze, as her eyes are locked on the book she holds in her hands.
The act of Qurban during Eid Adha is not just about sacrificing animals, it’s about the sacrifice of us as servants of Allah. Through this act, we as Muslims grow closer to God, and our faith strengthens. Not only that, it also proves that we are grateful for what He has given us. Allah has given so much to us, it does not seem so bad that we use some of His blessings for good.
“Use some of His blessings for good, huh,” Aisha monologues to herself, as she recalls her quarrel with her father this morning. Aisha’s father, Pak Din had shared his decision to sell Puteh, the white cow they own, for this year’s Eid Adha. As the daughter of a cow farmer, Aisha is accustomed to such announcements, but this time, the weight of the decision presses heavily upon her, and she struggles to accept her father's choice.
*****
“Look, she gave birth—it is so beautiful.” Said Mak Mah. It truly was a sight to hold as Kelabu, Mak Mah’s beloved cow, welcomed new life to the world. With gentle nudges and careful licks, Kelabu welcomed her newborn into the world. The barn became witness to the birth of a beautiful calf, which was as white as a fallen snow, with eyes that were filled with the innocence of a newborn.
“Can I name him Puteh? Since her mother is also named after color.” Aisha asked Mak Mah, her eyes sparkling with pure joy.
“Yes, of course you can.” Mak Mah replied, beaming with a smile as she saw her daughter’s happiness.
*****
Aisha remembers that moment as if it were yesterday. The sight of Mak Mah, her late mother’s loving eyes that sparkled with a depth of emotion as Kelabu gave birth. Kelabu was Mak Mah’s favorite. Aisha’s mind wanders back to the days when her mother was alive, when they used to tend to their humble farm together. Among the many cows, one held a special place in Mak Mah’s heart. A sturdy and majestic, gray-colored cow named Kelabu which is a direct translation for gray. Kelabu had kind eyes and a calm demeanor. Mak Mah said that, peculiar as it may sound, sometimes it felt as though Kelabu could understand her words and gestures. Puteh, being the offspring of Kelabu, holds a cherished place in Aisha’s heart. That’s why she resists her father’s decision to sell Puteh, knowing she would be sacrificed for Eid Adha.
“Assalamualaikum.” A soft and gentle voice interrupts Aisha’s daydreaming. It is Nek Senah, Aisha’s grandmother. Though slightly hunched bearing the curve of age, Nek Senah is a strong and resilient “not-so-young” lady (as she prefers to be called).
“Waalaikumsalam.” Aisha answers.
Holding a tiffin, most probably containing one of her renowned dishes, Nek Senah gracefully settles beside Aisha on the pangkin. Nek Senah radiates a warm smile. Her back is not straight, in fact it is slightly stooped and her hands are adorned with delicate age spots. Those same hands then hold Aisha’s head, guiding it to rest upon her chest, while her other hand gently caresses Aisha’s own. Through Nek Senah’s touch, Aisha feels a sense of love and tenderness. The cold hands carry an unexplainable warmth and Aisha feels some sort of reassurement.
“You knew?” Aisha asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“I know,” Nek Senah replies, her touch getting even more gentle.
“What do you think I should do?”
“Do what your heart wants you to.” Nek Senah responds.
“But it’s Puteh, I cannot bear the thought of her being sold, let alone sacrificed for Eid Adha.”
Nek Senah holds both of Aisha’s hands firmly, “You know, our Prophet once said ‘Verily, you will never leave anything for the sake of Allah Almighty but that Allah will replace it with something better.’”
Aisha looks up at Nek Senah, her eyes looking for guidance “So you believe I should let Dad sell her?”
Nek Senah’s expression softens, and she smiles tenderly, “I am not here to tell you of what you should or should not do. I believe you already hold the answer within you.”
Aisha contemplates her grandmother’s words, “If I agree, do you think mom would be happy if she were here?”
“I am certain she would,” Nek Senah responds as she caresses Aisha’s head.
*****
On the morning of Eid Adha, the sun casts its magical ray, enveloping the land with a sense of sacredness and peacefulness. Villagers gather in the fields, preparing for Qurban. The cows and goats that are tied stand calmly, as if aware of their role in the occasion. And amidst them, there stands a cow of unparalleled beauty—The snow-like white Puteh, tied to a sturdy tree.
“Thank you for agreeing to my decision,” Pak Din says to his daughter.
“It was incredibly difficult, Dad.” Aisha replies, her voice carrying a mixture of
emotions.
Pak Din smiles tenderly, “It sure is, your mother would be so proud.”
Aisha shows a calm smile, “I wish she were here to tell me that.”
As the sun’s magical ray gets blocked by the travelling clouds, Puteh’s end is delivered. Aisha witnesses Puteh’s last moment. Although she expected to not be able to bear the sight, she finds herself unexpectedly calm. When Puteh’s meat is being distributed to the villagers and those in need, Aisha finds herself feeling quite content, seeing the glowing happiness in people’s faces. Amidst her mixed emotions, there is a glimmer of solace and peace. Perhaps, the reason why is because for once, she could see what Qurban is actually all about,
for it is only when one embraces the true meaning of their sacrifices, that they find peace in the test of faith and of obedience to God.
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