The holy month of Ramadhan started this past Sunday. It's one of my favourite months of the year - not so much for the fasting and with it, the strengthened spirituality; but (and I'm almost ashamed to say it) the social side of it.
Fasting for me is transcendent. Although you certainly feel it in earthly ways - I mean you starve yourself and walk around with your tongue hanging out from thirst. But it's an experience and I fast the month without fail every year. It takes you to another level completely - spiritually, mentally and physically (what with losing all that weight).
I read somewhere that just as a blind man has other heightened senses because his sense of sight is lacking; when a person fasts, the body weakens but the soul becomes stronger. So you become closer to God and become patient and good and generous and all the rest of all that.
But after the fasting is done and a helluva hearty feast devoured, we head to the mosque for prayers and then after-mosque get-togethers full of more good food, fun and games with friends and family. Every single day for an entire month.
It's like a summer vacation. When you're on a diet. And have to work the next day.
Okay so it's nothing like a summer vacation.
Last night though, after 3 days of continuous fasting and the bloody flu, I dragged myself home from work and crawled up the stairs with only one thought in mind. Not hot, yummy food, or a nice tall glass of an icy drink. Not meeting friends for a late night gobble-fest. All I could think about was throwing myself onto my soft, comfy, welcoming bed for a long undisturbed night of deep sleep.
I think I'm getting old.
