by Ummer AliEverybody has a pattern to their lives. For me, year after year: school started in the fall, winter break came around, I refused to do my homework, and my parents yelled at me about that. It was just life. All of this was routine and there was no looking forward to it, and it just was. There was one thing I looked forward to every year; and that was Ramadan. Ramadan came around a little bit earlier every year (it follows the lunar calendar which is 10 days behind the traditional Gregorian calendar every year) but it always came with excitement, anxiety, happiness, celebration & a focus on finding a better version of me. Fasting during Ramadan is fardh (it’s an obligation). When someone fasts they’re not supposed to drink water, eat food, engage in sexual relations, and refrain from fighting, arguing, gossiping and cursing. For Muslims, Ramadan is the most holy month; the Quran was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), and other religious scriptures were also revealed at the same time. As a kid, the joy around Ramadan always revolved around food. I grew up right across the street from a mosque that was traditionally Egyptian. Every year there would be a sign-up sheet for people to decide which day they would pay the mosque to bring food, or bring food of their own to open the fast for the hordes of people that would flock there for the Maghrib prayer, and after the prayer for the iftar (finally eating that delicious food you were waiting all day for). There were always a massive amount of Egyptian food, and from a young age I would help serve that food to the hungry hordes of angry old men. Walking through the mosque, smells of roasted chicken, lamb, bamya, & other traditional foods filled the empty space. The long hard days filled with hunger, thirsts, and fatigue, were always met with dates, and a cup of milk. Every day I white knuckled my way through school, just anticipating those sweet dates, and the amazing iftar that was waiting for me at the mosque. I loved food, and nothing has really changed, I still love food. As I got older, I began to use it more to focus more on learning more about the religion of Islam. I was always so curious about what i was devoting so much time to. In my attempts to learn during the lectures in between the Maghrib & Isha prayers, there were always disagreements among the Imam and between the people listening to the lectures. They were always arguing against what the Imam said and how what they knew was more correct than the scholars from around the world were saying. There was always one person who would do this, the rest listened up, and asked questions if they had any. Yet one guy would always argue that he obviously knew more than the Imam. Ramadan is a time of brotherhood, joy, and a spiritual journey, yet it affects all people differently.
In recent years, Ramadan has taken me on a spiritual journey. The fasting of food and drinks are tough enough, but to truly try to find peace during the month is difficult. With no food in my stomach, I am easily irritable, I already have a temper and the absence of food can send me off the deep end. It’s hard. I make strides each year. The spiritual fast is much tougher than the physical fast, it’s hard to try to emulate the principles of being kind hearted, removing anger, and for trying to remove the adversarial mindset that many New Yorkers are walking around with. Yet every year I get anxious for Ramadan to come around. To welcome a new Ramadan each year with my family, and close friends, is something I look forward to. Every year I learn something new about Islam, about my friends, about my family, about myself. Every year I try to take a little more Ramadan with me for the rest of the year. I try to take the peaceful mindset, the camaraderie, the religion, and the beautiful image of Islam with me everywhere I go. In the midst of Islamophobia; I wish people could see the beauty of a community coming together to take care of one another.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Categories
All
Archives
November 2017
|