What Ramadhan Means To Me

The act of fasting
I love Ramadhan not because I enjoy fasting that much. To be honest, I am not that good at it. I get cranky when I am hungry on normal days, but in Ramadhan, I can take it just... a little bit better. And what I find trying, is the thirst and the dry- mouth effect. I suppose that’s part of the whole cleansing exercise – body and soul.

Memories of Ramadhan gone by
What I love about it is the nostalgic memories of childhood fasting Ramadhan brings with it. I remember the times we got up for the pre-dawn meal or “sahur” which was hilarious. It was a chore waking up my brothers for sahur especially De (pronounced as Dare) & Dat. You pull their blankets off, they will curl up in a ball; you make as much noise as possible, and they are not affected at all – it is as if they are not in the same world. Last trick is sprinkling water; even that would not work with De . He will just wipe his face on the bed sheet and doze off again.

The final strategy is to drag him to the dining table. For this, it required precision and great teamwork. Although he did not weigh as much then as he does now, he was still pretty heavy years ago for scrawny children the likes of my sister Zu, my brother Ba, Yatdean (the baby of the family) and I. When we got him to the table, we had to make sure he stayed there and did not make an escape back to the bedroom. That took a lot of energy. But we had fun.

Remembering the times with father
I cherished times of breaking fast, with my late father at the head of the table reciting the brief prayer once the drums from the neighborhood mosque could be heard. And my siblings and I, we just could not wait any longer…half of our glasses would be empty before he finishes his prayer.

Reminiscing about my childhood, I always remembered how poor and deprived we were. We did not get new clothes on a regular basis or presents or toys like other kids. But come to think of it, there has never been a time when we did not have food to eat. My parents always ensured that there was always enough – not gourmet stuff, but palatable and nourishing food. When I think of how my father with a small pension (he had to take early retirement due to health reasons) managed to do that for a family of fourteen, I am amazed. He must have been a whizz with money management.

My prayers and hopes
These days, the month of Ramadhan spurs my resolve to strengthen my spiritual experiences. I consider it apt to start to be more giving and considerate during this beautiful month. I find more peace at night, maybe because I get back earlier from work and have more time for myself. I get to perform the special “Tarawikh” prayers at the mosque or at home if I cannot make it to the mosque.

And I get to pray more for my beloved father who has been gone for more than 20 years but never forgotten. And for my mother who is bedridden; and my sister Mimi who helps take care of our mother with selfless devotion.

And this is the time when I have faith that god will guide me and grant me the strength to be a more compassionate, supportive and loving wife, mother, sister, friend, colleague and human being . Amen!