Looking back over the past month, I realize that the pattern with which I practiced Ramadan has seeped in quite well into this blog too. That may have been one of the objectives of this blog, although I’m not so sure if I would’ve wanted it to display itself in this manner: the manner with which I’ve been quiet over the last asharah of Ramadan this year.
The onset of Ramadan is marked by a visible sense of excitement: elaborate arrangements for sehri, making plans for iftar with friends, attending taraweeh prayers deep into the night with energetic fervor. By the time the first asharah of Ramadan is over, the process of fasting starts becoming rather mechanical (yes, I know I said ‘process’). Sehri becomes hurried last minute gulps of sunny side ups, not very different from mornings when you are rushing out in a bid to beat the morning office hour traffic. Iftar starts becoming a chore and the elaborateness of the spread across the dastarkhwan at sunset reduces itself to essential functionality. As for taraweeh, most people have already heard the Quran once during the 10 nighter taraweeh session by now.
Ramadan becomes everyday in the second asharah. The excitement dulls down and there isn’t much that stands out and catches your eye during this time.
The third asharah, on the contrary comes with energy boosters. After all, Ramadan is getting over in less than ten days. The realization is enough to get you charged up just like during the last week before a major examination in college, a time when you would be pulling all nighters studying, barely catching up on sleep during the early hours of the day, and then getting back to the grind of study. With each day, the sense of Ramadan passing by feels quicker than the proverbial slipping of sand from between your fingers.
Based on these, it would be easy to explain why I wrote with so much excitement during the first half of Ramadan, and then suddenly the frequency started reducing. But then it should’ve started picking up around the third asharah and come back to the normal one post a day routine, but it didn’t. Not that I wasn’t back to being out in the streets and savoring the spirit of Ramadan, both through the soul and through the tummy during this time. I would’ve been to places in Old Delhi and similar foodie haunts (Nizamuddin, Jamia) more times during these weeks, than I normally would over the rest of the year.
I’ve just felt better being quiet during this period, and just soaking everything to be spilled at a later time. I’m tempted to think of this description as a euphemism for laziness too, but I know that laziness is supposed to feel nice. Being quiet during this period hasn’t been the best feeling, so I will attribute it to something other than laziness. Something which I hope to identify and articulate well enough in times to come.