November Rain - Four

“I almost got the space. But that bloody fat Zikri took the spot. So no Tarawih tonight”

“Shut that, midget. Last night you told me you farted on the brink of prayer, now tonight, the spot taken. God knows what will be your excuse tomorrow”

“Bahhhhh. And you?”


“What the hell?”

“I said shut your oversized mouth up!”

“What? What did you see? Where?”


The moonlight was smooth. The whitish color was soaring yet soothing. Soaring or soothing or the combination of both, or maybe he didn't feel it at all. It was awkward. They felt awkward. Like their first date. But their first date wasn't awkward, catastrophic was a perfect word.
He didn't want to recall.
He tried to ditch but the memory slipped. He giggled.
He watched him giggled.
He stopped.
He giggled.
He giggled.
They giggled.
The mood lifted up.
This wasn't like their first date at all.
This was like they never met and they never knew each other.
And this was like they had nothing to say.
Bugger. Why he chuckles?
His hand clutched his. He pulled him hard. He pulled him back, harder. He smiled; he pulled him back, harder this time. Harder than what he could do. He smiled too. He didn't want to lose. Pulling him back toward him was a hefty job. He leaned and lied beside him. The coarsened sound of the dried leaves underneath them was harmonic.


“Ayah!! There under the coconut tree! Rafeeq and Razi! Razi put his penis inside Rafeeq’s mouth!”



Suddenly lights were everywhere. Torches lit up. People ran towards them.

“Shit! Rafeeq, get up! Run to that jetty and hop onto that boat. Come on! No need to wear that!”

It was one bright night of twenty fifth Ramadan, like any other usual nights during the month of fasting where almost every person in that village out for Tarawih. Except tonight, Razi and Rafeeq colored them with torches and yelling.


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