Kompang
The sounds of the kompang startled me from my reverie. “Oh, they are coming at last!” someone said out loudly. Finally, I said in my heart. I stood up from the spot where I was sitting; at the foot of the rambutan tree that was old enough to be my grandfather. At last they were coming, after what have been several hours long. The rays of the sun were scorching, but still seemed unnoticed by the excited crowd. “Oh, just look at the bride!” remarked a woman with deep wrinkles. She appeared to be happier than the bride herself. The bride was more than gorgeous, clothed in traditional Malay garments. She was flawless, just like what Mama had described to me; sweet, oval-shaped face, glimmering eyes, and a sweet smile set with two deep dimples that made the bride just right. Beside the bride, was the fluky groom. He too beamed at everyone else, like the world was his.