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Memories of Mumbai: Ramadan (part 1)


The crescent moon was sighted on April 2, 2022 in Mumbai, kicking off the Holy month of Ramadan. It is conventional Islamic belief that the Quran, the holy muslim text, was revealed to the prophet Mohammed in this month circa 610 AD.  To commemorate this event, for the next 30 days, every able bodied practicing muslim will observe a strict fast, abstaining from food and water from sunrise to sunset. This holiest of months teaches the Muslim people about self discipline, self control, sacrifice and empathy for the less fortunate. Eid is the festival to mark the end of this 30 day period of abstinence, and is celebrated with much pomp and vigor across the Muslim world.


Ramadan was always very conflicting for me. Even though my father practiced Islam, I was raised roman catholic, following the religion of my mother. It must have been a sensitive decision because I sensed uneasiness every time I asked why. But as a result, I experienced Islam as an outsider.  I was not obligated to keep Roza, the name given to the fast during this period. Back then, I viewed it with a sigh of relief, and never questioned it. What’s that about not looking a gift horse in the mouth? I didn’t have to wake up for sehri, the meal that must be eaten before the fast first crack of sunlight breaks. I could eat and drink all day long, and still be invited to the iftar parties, for the breaking of the fast. I got to celebrate Eid with new clothes and copious bowlfuls of Seer Kuruma, the traditional milk and vermicelli sweet made to commemorate the festival. I even got to collect Eidi, the gifts given by older relatives to Muslim children on the day of the festival . But I didn’t have to suffer for it.


As I grew older, this began to bother me greatly. I felt like I had cheated. Performing the Roza is a true test of strength and will power. I missed out on that coming of age experience. Eventually the effects of age will excuse me from observing the Roza and what a tragic loss that would be! Last year, at the ripe age of 47, I observed fasting for the entire month of Ramadan for the first time in my life. Honestly,  it ranked among the most beautiful experiences of my adult life.


We don’t realize the value of something unless it is taken away. Living in a world of such abundance, we don’t understand the true meaning of hunger and thirst anymore. Observing the roza made me realize what that must be like. A Google search revealed that 8.9% of the world's population, roughly 690 million people go to bed on an empty stomach, and many of these are children. It took the keeping the Roza to truly understand the gravity of that statement. What makes me even sadder is that I have a choice. For 690 million people going to bed hungry is their normal. 



Because I happen to be in India during this month, Ramadan becomes even more special. I get to do the fast in community with my family, for the first time in almost 30 years. Ramadan truly makes you appreciate all the things you have been blessed with. I see the ones who were once children, now with their own children. They take the seats on the table once occupied by the elders. Being an immigrant, it takes returning to your own backyard to be made aware of what it is you truly missed all along. Ramadan truly makes you count your blessings, and reminds you to do so while you still can.


Ramadan Kareem, my sisters and brothers.


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