HARI RAYA DAY HOLIDAY & SATURDAY JOKES - 308

 

Taiping, Perak, Malaysia

A teenage boy takes a quadriplegic girl on a date to dinner and the movies. At the end of the night out, he drives her back home and they start making out in his car. He tells the girl he feels uncomfortable doing this where her parents could come outside and catch them in the act. She says not to worry because she has a place they can go to. So, he helps her in her chair and she tells him to wheel her into the backyard. When they get into the back, she shows him a huge weeping willow tree that they can hide under and says he can do whatever he wants to her.

Under the tree, she shows him two branches that can prop her up and he has his way with her. When they finished, he dresses up and also dresses the girl, puts her back into the chair, wheels her to the front door, and knocks. When her father sees the young man, he thanks him.

The boy feels very uncomfortable because of what he just did to the man’s daughter and asks, “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because son,” the father answers, “You are the first boy to take her out of the tree!”

 

How do you make five pounds of fat look good?

Put a nipple on it!

 

Bill Clinton is no longer playing the saxophone.

He is now playing the whore-Monica!

 

Why do women have two sets of lips?

One set to tell you off with, and the other to make you forget you’re mad!

 

Why did Humpty Dumpty push his girlfriend off the wall?
So, he could see her crack!

 

A lady sitting in the dentist’s chair told the dentist, “I would rather go through the pain of childbirth than have you drill in my mouth.”

The dentist replied, “Well, you better make up your mind so I can adjust my chair!”

 

A representative for a condom company is on her way to a convention. While rushing through the airport, she drops the briefcase containing her samples of condoms all over the floor.

As she is stuffing all the condoms back into her briefcase, she notices tourists giving her crazy looks.

“It’s ok, she says, “I am doing a huge convention!”

 

Travelling through the country, an old couple drives into a petrol station. The attendant asks the old man, “Where are you folks from? I know everybody in this town.”

The old man says, “We’re from Melaka.” Hard of hearing, the old lady nudges her husband, “What did he say, papa?”

The old man answers her, “He asked us where we are from.” “Oh,” replies the old woman.

The old man tells the attendant to fill up the tank and check the tires. When that’s all done, the attendant tells the old man, “You know, the worst piece of ass I ever had was from Melaka.”

The old lady nudges her husband once more and asks, “What did he say, papa?”

The husband replies, “He thinks he knows you, mama!”

 

A penguin takes his car to the shop, and the mechanic says he needs an hour to check it out.

So, the penguin goes across the street to the 7-Eleven to kill some time and get ice cream.

Since the penguin has no hands, the poor little guy gets the ice cream all over his beak.

He returns to the mechanic and the guy tells him, “Looks like you blew a seal.” “Oh no,” says the penguin, “this is just a little ice cream!”

 

One day, little Johnny walked out of his bedroom with his suitcase packed.

His dad asked him where he was going and Johnny replied, “Last night I heard you say that you were pulling out and mommy said she was coming too. I didn’t want to be left behind!”

 

A gay person walks into a pharmacy with his suppository prescription and approaches the front counter.

He hands the prescription to the pharmacist and after confirming the prescription, the pharmacist asks him, “Okay sir, what kind of pills would you like?”

The guy looks around and over the shoulder of the pharmacist, and spots something he wants. He points at the wall and says, “I’ll take that kind right there!”

The pharmacist looks at what he is pointing at and says, “Sorry sir, but you can’t have that. It’s our fire extinguisher!”

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Tudung or no tudung, rightists will still vilify Hannah Yeoh; this time for dancing to Hari Raya tune

 

THIS is a genuine case of argumentum ad hominem – a Latin description of an attack of a person’s character, personality or motives rather than addressing the substance of the argument.

In philosophy, such “mudslinging” or reputation smearing antic is deemed a “fallacy of relevance” because the personal trait of a person is usually irrelevant to the truth or validity of the said argument.

Unfortunately, this is also the best weapon deployed by opposition-slant rightists to cast doubt in the credibility of Federal Territories (FT) Minister Hannah Yeoh who most recently ‘starred’ in a Raya video dancing to the tune of songstress Datuk Seri Siti Nurhaliza’s 2026’s traditional pop release “Beraya Dengan Saya”.

The video was shot in front of the iconic heritage Sultan Abdul Samad Building di Kuala Lumpur which has been recently refurbished.

While even the national icon extended gratitude to the DAP deputy secretary-general for choosing her song in the FT Ministry’s Raya video, detractors preferred to snub Yeoh for ‘conning’ the Malay Muslim community by creeping into their culture.

Such reaction can be gauged from a Facebook post with a somehow demeaning one-liner “Cina bukit bikin opera lagi” in reference to an Oh My Media headline of “Looking Sweet in Baju Kurung, Hannah Yeoh Makes a Raya Vvideo Appearance in Front of An Iconic Building”.

For the uninitiated, “Cina bukit” or literally “hill Chinese” is a derogatory slang referring to rural, unrefined or conservative Chinese. Akin to “country bumpkin” or “redneck” in English, it is often used to insult Chinese perceived as unsophisticated or uneducated.

Recall that the Segambut MP was previously mocked for attempting to hoodwink Malay Muslim voters when she showed up in an abaya and tudung (which is actually a selendang a.k.a. shawl) at a charitable Ramadan programme with village folks of Kampung Padang Balang at the Saidina Ali Mosque in Sentul, Kuala Lumpur.

While the sheer act of covering her hair marks respect when one steps into a mosque or gurdwara (Sikh temple) for that matter, Yeoh’s act of donning the tudung was equated to the late People’s Action Party (PAP) co-founder Lee Kuan Yew stepping into Malay villages in a songkok during election campaigns in the 1960s.

As one pro-Madani netizen tried to thwart personality attack on Yeoh by praising DAP ministers as “performers” in the Madani government, rightists slammed him for being a “DAP lackey” or “paid Madani cybertrooper”.

In ticking off the poster for being “a busy body if she wants to play Chinese opera”, another pro-Madani backer found himself belittled as a “fool” for not noticing the so-called  political charade.

One rightist reminded her brethren that “it’s fine to watch but don’t believe because she’s anti-Malay and anti-Islam”.

“The goodness displayed is just for show … Don’t regret and cry later when the Malays lose everything in the hands of a species who is good at playacting like this,” she warned.

“Please learn from the history of neighbouring countries … Just wait and see when she takes action, especially on the issue of (election) re-delineation which risks marginalising the Malays”.

Another reminded the Malays “never to forget history” only to be jibed by a Madani supporter “how easy one can forget history with the sight of Chinese (women) donning baju kurung”.

This is when one pro-Madani backer stood his ground by brushing aside the rightist/ Opposition’s propaganda while praising Yeoh not only for her excellent service but the fact that “she’s well-liked by the populace regardless of race and religion”. 

- focus malaysia

Raya and the 'village' we didn't know we had

 When I was a teenager, Hari Raya was not my favourite time of the year. It felt messy.

The house would be crowded with relatives I barely recognised, people whose names I struggled to remember but who somehow knew exactly who I was.

Someone was always sleeping on the floor. The kitchen was unbearably hot, with aunties moving between large pots of “kuah” (gravy) and trays of kuih while the fan spun lazily above.

At my maternal aunt’s house in Penang, the smell was unmistakable: nasi tomato, acar buah, and trays of sweet treats that seemed to appear endlessly on the table.

Every surface felt sticky with syrup or gravy. Children ran everywhere while the adults talked loudly over one another in that familiar Penang rhythm that only relatives seemed to understand.

As a teenager, I remember thinking it was chaotic. All I wanted was a quiet corner, some space, perhaps even an excuse to step outside for a while.

The heat, noise, and the crowd made Hari Raya feel less like a celebration and more like a logistical challenge.

‘A meaningful time’

Time, however, has a way of rearranging memory. Looking back now, I realise what I experienced was something far more meaningful than chaos.

It was a “village”. Not the romanticised kampung of travel brochures, but the real “village” - the extended family network that gathers without formal invitations, eats together in large numbers, tells the same stories every year, and somehow manages to hold everyone together.

Hari Raya was the one time of the year when that “village” fully assembled, filling the house in a way that felt overwhelming then but precious now.

Today, many years later, the difference is noticeable. The house is quieter. My aunt, together with some relatives, is no longer around.

Some families celebrate in different cities. The once endless stream of cars outside the house has thinned. The uncles and the aunties who dominated the living room conversations and were still able to run the entire kitchen operation while at it are slowly disappearing from the scene.

It is only when the crowd begins to shrink that we realise how much it once meant.

Time of togetherness

Hari Raya is often described as a time of forgiveness and gratitude, but it is also something deeper. It reminds us that life was never meant to be lived entirely on our own.

The extended family, what we might loosely call our “village”, has long been one of the most important forms of social support. This reflection feels especially relevant today because Malaysia itself is changing.

According to the Statistics Department, the country became an ageing society in 2021 when the share of people aged 65 and above surpassed seven percent of the population.

That proportion will continue to rise steadily in the decades ahead, with projections suggesting Malaysia will become an aged nation when at least 14 percent of the population is 65 or older.

At the same time, fertility rates have declined significantly, households are becoming smaller, and many families now live far from where they grew up.

The result is a quiet but important shift: the “village” is slowly thinning.

For most of human history, however, people did not navigate life alone. Individuals existed within a web of relationships.

Cousins, aunties, uncles, grandparents, and neighbours provided companionship, advice and support. These networks were rarely formal, but they formed the social infrastructure of everyday life.

Hari Raya gatherings are one of the few moments when we still see this system come alive. When dozens of relatives gather under one roof, generations mix naturally.

Stories move across age groups, cousins reconnect, and responsibilities are shared almost instinctively: someone cooks, someone cleans, someone entertains the children.

Social institution

What appears noisy, crowded and inefficient is actually a functioning social institution.

When conversations turn to the challenges of an ageing society, the focus often falls on pensions, healthcare financing, and long-term care systems.

These are undoubtedly important, and Malaysia will need stronger formal institutions to support its changing demographics.

Yet informal networks remain just as crucial. Extended families and communities provide something institutions struggle to replicate: belonging.

They reduce loneliness, distribute responsibilities and remind individuals that they remain part of something larger than themselves.

In that sense, Hari Raya does more than mark a religious celebration. It briefly rebuilds the “village”. For a few days each year, scattered families return to the same living rooms and dining tables.

Old relationships are refreshed, family stories are repeated, and multiple generations share the same space.

Perhaps this is why Hari Raya feels different as we grow older. As teenagers, the crowd felt suffocating, and the house felt too small for the number of people inside it.

Now, when the crowd becomes smaller, the silence feels heavier. The noise we once complained about was actually a sign of abundance, of relationships, connections, and a community that gathered simply because it was bound by family and shared history.

Memories of those Hari Raya mornings in Penang linger for this reason. My aunt’s house, which somehow expanded to accommodate everyone, the steady stream of relatives arriving at the gate, and the kitchen that never seemed to close were not just festive scenes. They were quiet demonstrations of what it meant to belong to a “village”.

As Malaysia moves into a different demographic future, the challenge is not to recreate the past exactly as it was.

Life has changed, families are smaller, and people are more mobile. However, the spirit of the “village”: the instinct to remain connected, to show up and gather, remains something worth protecting.

In the end, those crowded houses remind us of something simple but enduring: societies are strongest when people do not have to live life entirely on their own. - Mkini

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AIZAT ZAINAL ALAM is an academic from Universiti Malaya.

The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of MMKtT.