Growing up, Ramadan was always a special and exciting time for me. As a kid, I started fasting young, much to the opposition of my mother. Being the youngest of four by a fair bit, I’d see my sisters fasting and like any younger brother, I’d want to do as they were doing. In fact, when I was 8, I began fasting despite my mother’s protests. She thought I was too young, but even then, I was stubborn. In factto prevent me from fasting, she’d avoid waking me up before the sun rose to eat a meal before the day began, an event known as suhoor. She figured that I’d eventually get too hungry and break my fast sometime during the day – but I didn’t. When this continued for a couple days, she gave in and I was fasting along side the rest of my family. Even then I was excitable about Ramadan – even then I felt that the fast empowered me.

I didn’t realize back then, but this form of devotion was not about the abstinencefrom food or drink from sunrise to sunset , it was about self-control. If you can control those desires and needs that are intrinsic to being human, very little in your life can be difficult. The skeptical amongst us often question what good devotion to God does for the person beyond the spiritual. What they don’t seem to get is that the methods of ritual devotion such as prayer or fasting (which are not limited to Islam) benefit the devotee in very physical ways more so than they do God. Self-control, the lack of which is a source of much human conflict, is one of the many ways that religious devotion improves the devotee. In fact, the requirement of this devotion isn’t a curse or an obligation on followers – rather, it’s a blessing – so long as it is recognized as this.

Many of my most deeply held memories of growing up come from this month, and to be honest, few of them come from Eid-ul-Fitr, the celebration afterwards. I remember waking up long before the Sun, inching my way towards my parent’s kitchen – half due to my sleepiness, half due to the cold floor - for the first meal of the day. Sometimes I’d be first to wake up but often I was second to my mother. It was often touch-and-go if my sisters would wake up. We were all in the habit of skipping breakfast back then, skipping suhoor was  instinctual for them. (To be fair, one of my sisters almost always would wake up for this meal, and one of them, almost never.)

The food was usually leftovers from the night before, or sometimes my mother would cook something new before she went to bed the night before. My mother was always an incredible chef, and she’s the reason I have such a passion for cooking. We’d all eat around the kitchen table – growing up, eating together with my family was rare – so this was always significant for me. Suddenly, my mother would realize just how close to Fajrtime it was and we’d have to finish our meal fast. She always made sure that we drank a glass of water before we went back to bed. Just as the start of the day would come, she’d turn on this Urdu radio show that was on only for Ramadan (which was always amusing since only my mom and dad knew some Urdu – I had a hard enough time with Bangla, which was my mother’s tongue), and right before it was time to pray, they’d play the naat (or religious song) Nabi-un-Nabi. It was always a hauntingly beautiful melody – and while I’ve never understood the language, just listening to it reminds me of Ramadans past.

As we all grew up, as I moved out, and as life progressed, Ramadans changed. The realities of life and our schedules meant we were less likely to be able to break fast together. In my last year of high school, I remember breaking fast at school more often than at home. When I moved to University, I remember barely being able to wake up for suhoor and often just stuffing a breakfast bar into my system minutes before I was to begin my fast. Now being a grad student, I’m constantly breaking my fast at the office more so than at home. But regardless of what I need to do for practicality, whenever Ramadan comes around, my sense of nostalgia will bring me back to the days I was 8 and beginning fasting for the first time.

Ramadan Mubarak,

Mubdi