I almost missed out on being in time for Iftar today. Yes, I almost did. And I don’t have anything else to blame but my ever confused mind, which just keeps on throwing up multiple choices at me, and never is it the case that out of the options available, only one is the right…
Someone calling out my name, a tap on the shoulder. I turn around and see that it’s Farrukh Bhai, complete with wife and kid. Now I haven’t seen Farrukh Bhai in ages – last I remember it was around the time his kid was a toddler, and now he looked like a kid who was…
After yesterday (and the splitting headache which accompanied the wait till Suhoor), I had made up my mind that I’m definitely not going to adhere to the philosophy of eating light at Iftar. Plus in a way, Ramadan had ‘officially’ not kicked in for me yet. There is a fairly popular anecdote in the region…
There is something about calling up Amma and Abba right after Maghreb prayers have been offered. Maghreb has always been that one prayer of the day which signifies that a long day spent in working for a living is coming to an end. May not necessarily be as aptly applicable given the ways in which…