We would head out there in a convoy of cars, chatting and laughing away. We would read the Yasin and Fatihah while cleaning up the grave site while still yapping away.
Usually, there would be the ice cream man there on his motorcycle ringing his bell and we would all buy ice cream potong and, yes, we would still continue to yap and laugh away.
This would be followed by everyone heading back to my mother’s house to have her excellent laksa Johor. Fun and happy times!
These trips are a bit religious, but more of a cultural thing and sort of a family tradition. According to the religion, we can offer up prayers for our deceased family members anytime and anywhere. But culturally, we still go on Hari Raya morning and it has become a symbol of family togetherness.
Half of my family is also...