My goodness, I have to reset the clock, again!
Ramadan, in many ways, is the same every year—fasting, prayer, reflection, communal feasting—but in some ways, it is also different. The rituals remain constant, the spiritual experience varies from person to person, but what constantly changes is the logistics.
I had received the Ramadan timetable in the mail and had affixed it on the fridge. It lists the daily times for starting the fast, the 5 daily prayers, and the iftar time for breaking the fast. The first day of fasting was on Saturday, March 1st, and daybreak—the time to begin the fast—at 5:15 a.m. On Friday night, I set my alarm for 3:45 am. I need an hour and a half for my pre-dawn rituals.
3:45 am: Bzzzz! Bzzzz! I literally jump out of my sleep. I rush to perform ablution and offer my optional prayers while my husband Khalid (who is not fasting due to health reasons) gets the meal ready. Bless him! Heat the chicken curry, fry the paratha on the tawa (Pakistani hot plate for making flat bread), and we sit down to have our suhoor—the pre-dawn meal.
4:15 am: I settle down in my comfy armchair to recite the Quran, while Khalid hands me my steaming cup of latte. I will recite a volume every day, hoping to complete the 30 volumes by the end of Ramadan. Coffee cup emptied I start hydrating with chilled water and watch the clock.
5:00 a.m. 15 minutes to daybreak. I put away the Quran. This particular copy of the Quran, wrapped in a pink silk cover, was a wedding gift my grandfather gave me 53 years ago. It is heavy, so I reserve it for Ramadan reading.
7 minutes to daybreak. I retrieve my iPad, log into the Zoom link for the daybreak Fajr prayer, which the imam will conduct online. I place the iPad on a stand next to my prayer rug, wrap a shawl over my head (I am in my pajamas), and wait for the adhan call to prayer. Oh yes, and I open the Quran App on my phone.
5:15 am: The iPad screen lights up and the call to prayer resonates through our apartment. The imam announces: I will be reciting chapter 2, verse 20. I scroll down to 2:20 on my phone, and start following the imam’s recital as the Arabic verses scroll through the screen. His qirat recital is melodious and beautiful. We end the Fajr prayer by making supplication and state our intention to fast this day for the pleasure of Allah.
5:45 a.m. I am back in bed. I am grateful that I don’t have to worry about waking up in time to get to work. Aaah! The bliss of retirement.
Fast forward to 5:30 pm, with no food or drink (not even water), and Khalid and I get ready for iftar. During the day, I remind myself to be conscious of God, that I am fasting because that is what God commands, and that I must pursue efforts that please God by performing good deeds and giving charity. I make mental ‘To-Do-Good’ lists. Sometimes I forget—to be God conscious—that is.
5:45 p.m. Khalid and I take our seats at the dining table and wait for the call to prayer at sundown. On some days, we will go to a communal iftar, break our fast with friends, or host family at home.
5:48 pm. The adhan rings out from my adhan clock and we say a prayer of thanks to Allah for His blessings. In these moments, I can’t help thinking of the children in Gaza. We break our fast with a date, strawberry smoothie, and dine over a salad.
Did you notice that we had dinner in the early morning, and just a salad for iftar? It is usually the reverse, i.e. a light snack before daybreak, and a big meal for iftar. After all, you have been fasting all day and you would think you would have an appetite for iftar. Well, not really, in our case at least. A few years ago, when Ramadan was in the long days of summer, Khalid and I realized that the interval between iftar and suhoor was so short that by the time we woke up for suhoor, we had no appetite. We also realized that despite a full day of fasting, a couple of dates and a glass of milk was enough to satisfy one’s grumbling stomach. So, we reversed it. And it works - for us. With a small salad at dinner, we build up an appetite for suhoor and the full meal carries us through the day.
Getting back to Day 1. Break your fast. Say your Maghrib sundown prayer, and then log onto special Ramadan lectures on YouTube, with a steaming cup of tea. These lectures are deeply inspiring.
9:30 pm: It’s Taraweeh time, the special Ramadan night prayers. Khalid and I do not go to the mosque, rather, join the prayer via Zoom. The imam announces the chapter and verse and we follow his recital, ending at 10:15 p.m. He ends with asking us to make the intention for fasting the next day and makes the announcement: “Tomorrow morning, Fajr time will be at 5:13 am.” Each day, the daybreak prayer will move a minute or two earlier and the iftar time will move a few minute later.
So, that’s just the beginning of ‘a day in the life during Ramadan.’ Guess what happened on Day 9. Let me give you a hint: Sunday, March 9th. Another hint: It happens only once a year. Got it? The answer: Daylight Savings Time. It’s disorienting as it is, but try dealing with it during Ramadan. I had to reset my alarm from 3:45 am to 4:45 am. Iftar time moved an hour later to 6:57 pm. And that is not all. Every week, I switch my morning alarm time to 10 minutes early as the daybreak moves earlier and earlier.
Saturday, March 29 will be the last day of fasting. We will begin our fast at 5:15 am and break our fast at 7:18 pm. We started the month with a 13-hour long fast and will end with a 14-hour fast. All in sync with the cosmos.
So that’s just one of the logistics. Then there is the pre-Ramadan prep. Every household does it their way. And I do it ‘My Way.’ Since I find it hard to cook when fasting, I prepare my daily meal in advance. As in: way in advance. As in: meals for an entire month. Thank heavens for freezers. We get the meat from the halal butcher and over three days, I prepare 30 main dishes and 30 side dishes. It’s not as impressive as it sounds. Using all four stove burners, I cook chicken Aachari, garlic chicken, chicken karahi, and chicken curry and portion them into 14-15 Ziploc bags. Next day, it’s keema matar, keema channa, keema pakak, and keema aaloo. (ground chicken with peas, chickpeas, spinach, and potato). 14-15 ziplocs. The third day it’s the side dishes: daal mash, daal masoor, daal channa, daal moong (lentils). 30 ziplocs.
My freezer brimeth over. I am done!
And one more thing: I start detoxifying, as in de-caffeinating. To avoid caffeine withdrawal, I cut down on my coffee intake a week prior to Ramadan. Fasting is meant to put you in a reflective mode. You don’t want a mid-day-headache getting in the way.
Of course there is the usual traditional stuff: ordering juicy dates online and purchasing the frozen parathas. Khalid oversees keeping the fridge stocked for the iftar salads and smoothies. He has perfected the art of salad making: yummy, colorful, and artistic. Wish I had taken photos. Maybe next year.
As Ramadan ends, I reflect on my ‘To-Do-Good’ list. Was I able to accomplish all I hoped and prayed for? I did complete the recital of the 30 volumes of the Quran, but did I achieve taqwa—God consciousness? Did I just go through the rituals or am I more spiritually centered? Did I find the peace and solace I was looking for? Am I more patient, more forgiving? Will I be able to sustain the spiritual energy I was able to harness once Ramadan is over?
One thing is for sure: I didn’t lose a single pound.
