If one were to ask, it was a typical summer evening. The sky was painted in shades of reds and blues, merging to create purple hues as the sun set into the horizon. Despite the tiny breeze brushing past the quiet streets, the weather was sweltering hot — typical Middle Eastern climate. The sounds of crows cawing and the discrete, soft murmur of the wind were distinctly audible during this particular evening. However, the only sound that I could focus on was the menacing growl emitting from my stomach.
To backtrack, this indeed was an ordinary day in general. However, this was not just another day for me. In fact, it was a special day that marked an exceptional checkpoint in my six-year-old life. It was my first fast.
During the five Ramadans that occurred after my birth, I watched in jealousy as my mother, sister, and Rose Aunty participated in the Ramadan activities without me.
Every day, I would wake up and walk myself to the kitchen to eat breakfast while my family would fast. The patience it took to fast for a whole day triggered my curiosity. It drove me crazy since I wanted to fast with them too. My mother told me to observe the activities that an individual has to do while fasting. She explained that fasting was not just about not eating but about taking the time to remember Allah and others’ needs before oneself. I patiently watched my family throughout the month. Rose Aunty played a pivotal role in explaining the concept of Ramadan. She read the Quran next to me and guided me towards understanding the true meaning of Ramadan beyond just fasting.
To make it easier for me to fast the following year, at the age of five, I decided that I would eat breakfast, then skip lunch, and then eat dinner with my family when they break their fast. It seemed like the perfect solution to feel like a part of Ramadan since I was not allowed to fast at the young age of five.
Things took a turn when I turned six years old. I was finally allowed to fast! The hazy excitement that I had waking up at five a.m. for Suhr on that particular day was unlike any familiar feeling that six-year-olds generally get when they are told to wake up early. Throughout the entire day, my stomach made loud noises that I’d never even known it could make. I had never been this hungry before. However, it brought me joy and so much satisfaction to see that I was finally fasting for real that I pushed aside the tumultuous protests coming from my stomach. I was determined to complete my fast all the way through!
Finally, it was time for Iftar. The immense satisfaction that I got after taking just a sip of water and a bit of a date fruit was incomparable to anything I had accomplished to that point. Just looking at the delicious food laid neatly on the dining table was enough to make me swoon. The fresh, glossy fruits. The samosas, cutlets, spring rolls, banana fritters, and so much more. All of my favourite appetizers that Rose Aunty had prepared herself. I delightedly devoured the food waiting on the table with my family. The greatest lesson I had learned from Ramadan was appreciating and being grateful for the meals I was graced with every day. From patiently observing my mother, sister, and Rose Aunty praying Taraweeh to actually praying Taraweeh. My heart felt so complete. I completed all thirty days of Ramadan that year, and the appreciation and support of my family allowed me to continue each Ramadan with the same spirit.
After my first Iftar, I huddled under my blankets, closed my eyes and slipped into the land of sleep as I longed for the following day, to feel the immense joy and satisfaction that fasting correctly for the first time gave me…
By Neha Shanavas
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