The Trail of Longing

Have you ever felt longing appear out of nowhere? Like a stray cat that keeps coming back no matter how many times you chase it away.

This is a story about a song, memories, and prayers coming together on one quiet night.

Follow the trail of Musholmah's longing and discover how sometimes, letting go can be more beautiful than holding on.

“Jijah, you know longing is like a stray cat. Chase it away today, and it'll be back tomorrow.”

Jijah, who was frying fish, jumped so badly that the ladle nearly fell to the floor.

“Allahu, Musholmah! Whatever you have to say, give salam first. I'm a human being, not a statue! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

She continued grumbling while stirring the pan.

“If there were a competition for strange metaphors, you'd come tenth. The first nine places are already taken by people slightly more sane than you.”

Musholmah chuckled.

“Even after getting scared like that, you still have time to insult me.”

“Of course. If I'm not insulting someone, I'm not being myself,” Jijah replied, trying to scratch her back with the hot spatula.

“Oi, don't use that! Your back will smell like fish. People will think you work at the market,” Musholmah said with a smile.

Musholmah pretended to sulk.

“Easy for you to say. But seriously, Jijah, I'm tired. It feels like I'm waiting for something that's never coming back.”

“It's Musthopa you're waiting for, isn't it?” Jijah replied while chewing on a chilli.

“The man who promised to marry you once he got a permanent job, except nothing about him has ever stayed permanent.”

Musholmah smiled bitterly.

“He said he'd come home for Hari Raya Haji. He just forgot to mention which year.”

The evening was dim, like a heart that had gone too long without light.

Musholmah sat on the veranda, gazing at the softly coloured sky.

This was where Musthopa had once promised to build a house beside the paddy field and plant two coconut trees. One named Longing, the other Love.

Now all that remained was a cracked flowerpot and a stray cat with absolutely no concept of privacy.

That night, Musholmah uploaded Jejak Rindu, a song she had downloaded from Kelibatmu's YouTube channel.

She whispered to herself.

“Hopefully the owner doesn't hit me with a copyright claim. If my page gets shadow-banned, there goes my engagement.”

She chuckled as she pressed post.

Several days passed.

The only thing that seemed to grow was the number of like notifications.

Then a message arrived from an unknown number.

“I saw that song on my timeline. The title reminded me of our story.”

Musholmah smiled and typed slowly.

“Even if it did, it only means one thing. I've learned to let go.”

Rain fell quietly.

The smell of wet earth mingled with the faint scent of an Indah Water drain.

Jijah appeared carrying two cups of coffee.

“What a romantic atmosphere you've got here. Even if Musthopa came back, this smell would knock him out.”

But several days after that final message, news arrived from far away.

Musthopa had died.

The following day, only Jijah and two or three close neighbours came to visit Musholmah.

The atmosphere remained quiet, giving her space to take in the news as her heart slowly began to accept it.

Musholmah sat by the window for a long time, gripping her phone.

Tears slipped quietly down her cheeks, though a faint smile remained.

“It seems God gave me the chance to let go before this news reached me.”

The night breeze touched her gently.

The stray cat she had once chased away had returned and was now lying quietly beneath the table.

At last, the trail of longing had found its way home.

Not to stay.

Only to say goodbye in peace.