اللهم لك صمت و على رزقك أفطرت و عليك توكلت
O my God, for Thee I fast, and with the food Thou gives me I break my fast, and I rely on Thee
-Dua (prayer) for breaking the fast
I always feel nervous and anxious when reciting the above prayer. Is it truly time for iftaar (breaking of the fast) or are my eyes playing tricks on me? After nearly 16 to 17 hours of shunning food and drink, I am allowed to partake of my first morsel. My reward for my attempt to get closer to God. While many fellow Muslims seek out their favorite type of dates or deep-fried, oily appetizers, I am partial to salt. After all the miles I have logged in my sneakers, I know that after water, salt is the next best thing that the tongue can experience.
As this blessed month enters its final days, I can't help but contemplate what I have accomplished. Have I become a better Muslim, have a better understanding of my world, become closer to God? More importantly, am I a better human being now than I was a month ago? While the opportunities to socialize with distant relatives, make new friends, make the effort to go to the mosque, and realize my epicurean fantasies (Mmmm...the kachoris and kuku paka!) are some of my favorite things this month, they are not what makes this month special to me. No, it is molding my "New Year's Resolutions" during these 29 or 30 days that I enjoy in particular, even though I am more than 7 months behind schedule. I try to emulate qualities that I cherish in others: humility, calmness, friendliness, generosity, optimism. Breaking bad habits and generating good ones. While I'm still chugging up the mountain trying to achieve this distant pinnacle, I feel that I have finally made it out of the base camp established a month ago.
It was no doubt a tough month, long hours coupled with heat and humidity. Unlike earlier years, I felt drained at the end of the day. And then, inspired by the Olympics, I felt like I could run a million miles, but turned back sheepishly from my front door, managing only 2 night runs in my preparation for the Chicago Marathon. But "toughness" is all relative, and I admire my fellow Muslims living in the Middle East (temperatures approaching 120 F, sometimes without electricity and with war-like conditions!) and north of the Arctic Circle (21 hour days!). When I was younger, going without food for hours at a time made me particularly cranky, I happy to report that I think I have a handle on that. Listening to NPR the other day, I could only shake my head when a lady interviewed in the West Bank said that "Ramadhan Rage" was justified against Muslims who were not fasting and hanging out behind shuttered restaurants during lunchtime. Lest we forget, Ramadhan is not only abstinence from the physical pleasures, but also distractions and indulgences of the mind. And the latter is the hard part.
Lunch on Monday will be alien to me and just won't feel right, at least for a few days. I will finally have a full night's sleep and not have to wake up at 3:30 AM for the ironically named "breakfast". I will no longer have to put blinders on my eyes when approaching a water fountain. My weight will finally remain stable. But I will miss this month like a dear departed friend. One that allowed me to truly run a spiritual diagnostic test and set about fixing my errors. One that made me empathize with the plight of the sick and needy. One that showed me what was wrong and what was right with the world. One that gave me a new found appreciation for even my daily prayers. One that pulled me down from the skies and truly made me feel human. One that made me feel closer to God.
Peace be upon you -
How much we craved you yesterday!
How intensely we shall yearn for you tomorrow!
- Dua for bidding farewell to Ramadhan (Sahifa al-Kamilah, Supplication 45)
