Every year Ramadan comes to our lives to drive us towards spiritual enlightenment, physical and mental enrichment. Teaches us compassion, generosity, humbleness and simplicity. In the core, there is no trouble in patience and there is no benefit in complaining. Yet we do not miss out the chance to make this 30 days of ‘hunger games’ spice up a bit, as we do, making it one of the memorable month of the year.
The game begins with debates, some of us heat up the twitter debating whether it is ‘Fota bela’ or ‘Suhur’/’Sehiri’, the debates gets carried on until the end with the colours of your dresses, design of your Mehedi for Eid. Success story, Bengalis trended #Fotabala on twitter marking the start of a very Bengali Ramadan. Whatever name we use for ‘Fota bela’, you know it is the most important meal, yet we miss it out with a glass of milk or water and sometimes slapping off the Alarm.
The rest of the day, we mostly sleep it away, make excuses at school or at work that we are “fasting”. True it is hard not to pass a single drop of water through our throat during this burning summer days. So, we don’t mind finishing that season of Game of Thrones lying on the bed as the remaining basic needs is just a ‘call to the nature’. Sometimes, we easily get outrageous for no reason if we see someone is eating in front of us, ignoring the teaching of controlling our temptation.
Most of us men turns into a piece of s**t during this month, as we are, household works and cooking, ‘Mom and sisters are there for that’. And dishes? ‘I can’t miss my Tarweeh fam!’
Whatever you do, just never ask a girl why she’s not fasting, never ever!!
If anyone asks for a classification of ‘Rojadaar’; we get ‘khamuka’ and ‘amukha’, the khamukas do fasts but brings no change in their life styles and bad habits, they just goes with the flow, ‘no one is eating so I should not’. ‘Amukha’ knows what they are actually doing throughout the day, and they are doing it for a reason.
Anways, you try involving anything evil, even music, ‘Astagfirullah it’s Ramadan bro!’, look at a girl, ‘Astagfirullah it’s Ramadan bro!‘. Try bitching about Bushra, ‘Astagfirullah it’s Ramadan sis!‘
The best part of Ramadan is during the ‘Iftaar’ time, the real hunger game begins just 10 minutes before the ‘fast breaking’ o’clock. We sit idly in front of the delicious foods and a second defies all the quantities of physics and becomes equivalent to a thousands year.
The loveliest part of iftaar is every single day of the month there is a friends and family dinner. Whoever you are dinning with they starts the meal with you and finishes…well it depends.
Taraweeh in the mosque creates another form of Ramadan caricature. You find people sneaking out, gossiping and yes! sleeping in their favourite corner. My favourite place would be anywhere near a wall. You see people turning up to the mosque with Lucozade, and Red bull, ‘It’s just Taraweeh, not Tour de France!’
What I personally miss are those childhood Ramadan days and Eids. The evening before the Eid day, all those excitements and the search for the New Moon in the eastern sky. When sighted, the chorus of joy with the neighbourhood, I miss it all, all of it, I bet you do the same!