In all these years of observing fast during Ramadan, I’m yet to figure out if it is best to have dinner before Taraweeh — the special prayers during Ramadan which are said after Ish’a (on an average, they are around an hour long) — or after Taraweeh. Those who have dinner before, go in with the feeling that they have enough reserves to physically last through the prayers. Then there are those who consider Iftar to be as good as dinner with qorma, biryani, naans, and kebabs spread across their dastarkhwaan.
I could hardly bear the sight of the haleem-biryani which my partner in breaking the fast had laid out in front of me with such gusto. The dastarkhwaan had been laid out in the open courtyard of the campus mosque at Jamia Millia Islamia, and a group of around forty people had assembled for Iftar. Opposite me sat a gentleman, who I believe to have been Bengali because his accent, dressed in a white kurta pajama and a black woven dupalli topi.
Normally, Iftar mostly comprises fruits and liquids, and the occasional fries, for me. Eating heavy immediately at Iftar doesn’t come easy to me. I don’t think the gentleman sitting across me would’ve understood that, and I have a feeling I ended up pissing him off. Twice the gentleman asked me to have some of the haleem-biryani, which is found in abundance on hand carts around the Jamia area. Each time, I politely refused. (The fact that I’m not a fan in the least of the combination of haleem and biryani may have added to my compulsive refusals. But if I’ve stayed hungry all day, I think I deserve to believe that I should be eating only what I feel like.)
A while later when I re-entered the mosque for Taraweeh, it was pleasant to see that the prayer mats had been spread for prayers in the courtyard, and that prayers were to happen there instead of the inner halls. The breeze was soaked in the coolness of a shower which had drenched the city earlier in the day, with the sky faintly outlined with clouds. The main house lights had been switched off, and the courtyard was filled with moonlight filtering through the clouds and casting shadows of the men gathered in congregation.
An experience like this deserved to be consummated with a helping of Nihari floating in dollops of butter.