We all have heard or read this quote somewhere. Some might be embarrassed or even feel guilty for falling short rest of the year; and few might be around the corner to ridicule us for doing that “extra” for this month. So, what is it that rekindles that spirit in us to do what we do? The holy spirit? Rahmah of Ramadan? Religious traditions? Peer pressure? Whatever it is, religious or not – this time of the year we all feel extra connected and tuned to something bigger than us and mightier than all.
I come from a conventional Muslim household, and part of my childhood was in one of the holiest city. I was born in Ramadan in Medina and exceptionally fortunate to observe how the Arabs celebrate Ramadan. In the Middle East, Ramadan is a month-long celebration of coming together to pray, sharing food and gifts, doing extra charity and being extra sincere even with day-to-day chores. The Bangladeshi side of me was lucky to come upon my inherited rituals of Ramadan. The basics are almost the same, but in Bangladesh everything comes deep-fried (if you know what I mean).
As a teenager in Bangladesh, Ramadan was fun! Most schools are closed for the month, offices have shorter working hours, family and friends organize iftar dawats, neighbors share a fancy tray full of their best iftar dishes, and ofcourse – the shopping bonanza for Eid. I prized the many dresses I got in the name of Eid. I embraced my Bangali-ness! I made bewildering memories of eating deep-fried food (everything tastes better when fried – simply ask a Texan!). And most favorite of my memories was having family and friends over for iftar – oh my….the wait for the food and family at the big table might be as priceless as Vinci’s famous painting - The Last Supper.
Today, it’s just the two of us at my table with an unconventional iftar menu. Nevertheless, I have learned to assimillate to my new ways. Even before our quarantined life, I had often refused to join social gatherings during Ramadan, or even Masjid for iftar and Tarawih. It’s not because I go “extra” whack during this month. It’s mostly because of my inability to “human” due to the interference with my routine meds. Health is wealth, ask someone who does not have that. There are so few things I can eat today without worrying about the consequences. But this does not stop me from cooking up some unconventional-delicious-iftar.
Cooking is therapeutic only when it’s not expected of you. Being so frequently sick, my husband does not expect me to cook most days. We are a household of two, no kids, no pets – I get plenty of time and energy to cook in the name of meditation. When I am not huffing and puffing to get dressed after a long day to be at an iftar dawat, I spend that time at home in my oversized t-shirt, faded pair of yoga pants and a messy hair bun to prepare a hearty iftar for two or sometimes for my Muslim neighbors (in case you are thinking why haven’t you received your iftar yet….maybe you live too far?) - feeding a fasting person is believed to come with great reward from Allah. Yes, sharing iftar with neighbors is an endearing tradition that I have embraced into my not-so-conventional life.
All in the name of keeping up Ramadan “traditions,” the time, energy, effort and money we spend in preparing, consuming multi-course meals is tragic. Ramadan is the month of fasting. Paradoxically, it has become the month of food. Lots and lots of it. During this month many slaves away in the kitchen up until the Magrib Adhan. The truth is we are obligated to fast, pray, read the Quran, and perform all other acts of worship. Why then should we be burdened solely with increased cooking and setting up tastefully done iftar party tables, which results in the missing out on the bounties of the blessed month?
My inability to be in bigger crowds and host regal iftar parties - have put me in a retreat. I am not religious; spiritual, maybe? Alhamdulillah, I am indebted to my poor health - it is a blessing in disguise. It made me more spiritual and more tuned to the priorities of life, and treasure my blessings. The fast itself is considered a purification of sins and a time to cleanse mind, body, and soul. Some say, Ramadan does not come to change our schedules, it comes to change our hearts. But how do we change our hearts if we don’t amend our habits?
No comments:
Post a Comment