Bad hijabi days.
I don’t normally wear the hijab at home or in a company of sisters.
Me :: I’ll get the door. It must be dad. *gingerly opens the door till I spot an unmistakable not-my-dad figure*
Sis’s little brother :: Salam Sister Siti … I…
And I slammed the door at him.
Sis :: You slammed the door at my little brother??!
I reopened the door after wearing my hijab, to find him still there grinning like The Joker from the Batman series.
Me :: Sorry, I thought it was my dad. I uhh … wasn’t in hijab just now.
Sis’s little brother :: Haha~ It’s ok. I only get to see a bit. You have nice hair. :)
Me :: You did not see anything.
Sis’s little brother :: Haha~ But I did. You should keep it longer sister. :)
Final day in Mecca.
Mum :: So he’ll be coming over to help carry our luggage.
Me :: Owh, alright. *continues eating my lunch*
Sis :: Mum, he’s here.
Me :: What the … crap! Do not come in yet! I’m not in hijab!
Sis’s little brother :: Haha~ Okay Sister Siti.
Sis :: Don’t listen to her. Come in, come in little brother.
Me :: Not yet! *scrambles for my hijab … where is that bloody headpiece?!!*
Sis’s little brother :: Haha~ I think I will wait first.
Mum :: No no. Come in. Don’t mind her. Why are you kicking up a fuss? He’s your friend and he's like a son to me.
I don’t know who it was, but someone threw a hijab on my head. I wasn’t able to put it on properly since my hands were soiled with lunch. Honestly, I was flustered, furious beyond expressions. I kept my head low throughout the whole time, while trying to figure out why I was reacting that way since before coming for Hajj, I wasn’t always a good hijabi.
11.29am Malaysian Time