There is always a moment in your life when you want to be a child, even if you cannot. For me, the list makes quite a count, where I want to transit briefly in time that was so golden. But, unfortunately, childhood is a promise never kept. What do I miss the most as an adult? The circumambient air sweetened by my people. The people who made me believe that everything thing is still alright. We spend our whole childhood desiring we were older, and later we spend adulthood wishing the opposite. How strangely we desire, right?
Sighting the Ramadan Moon together was the first thing we practiced as our Ramadan ritual back then. Papa would sometimes lift us sisters to make us see it. Thinking about that time is like living a dream. We were on the go every couple of years because Papa was in the armed forces. This relocation every two years carried some perks of its own. And one was that it allowed us to observe Ramadan in all four provinces. Sometimes if we were lucky to be stationed near our hometown, Papa made sure we were there a few days ahead of Eid to observe a few fasts with our Taya Abu and his family and later celebrate Eid with them. We did the same at my Nani’s before she left us for a better world. The charm, the excitement, and everything about that time was so magnetic.
Happiness never ceases to exist whenever I reminiscence my childhood days. Ramadan was something else back then. Mama used to know our preferences for the pre-dawnmeal the night before and passed them to our Chacha(our house help). She was the first one to wake up for Suhoor(pre-dawn meal) and used to wake us all up gradually. She made sure whatever we had on our plate was healthy and nutritious enough for the day’s long fast. So, despite the preferences noted, the menu used to be slightly modified according to what she felt was worth consuming. I don’t remember myself feeling hungry while fasting. That’s what she did for us. I appreciate what was in our backyard and how profusley we were cared for.
The Iftar(evening meal) table always catered to everyone’s needs and favorites. The standout amongst all was, undisputedly, Aloo k Pakoray (potato fritters). The way we three indulged in that big platter of pakoras every evening with mint chutney (dip) is lodged in my memory to date. I remember how we used to race as to who picks the last pakora in the dish. The pre-Iftar talks, ‘I got very thirsty today, I’m gonna drink this whole jug of lemonade, and Did you get hungry?’ were the best. With our little stomachs full, we were still never full, psychologically. And how now I appreciate that psychological knock of it too.
Mama used to recite Qur’an considerably during the month and advised us to do the same. Later, I started competing with her in who reads the most and finishes first. We sisters were motivated and compelled from a very young age for both obligatory and supererogatory prayers, rigorously. Mama inculcated in us how to maximize our ibadah (worship) during the month and how to procure His rewards. She believed avidly in the force of habit, and she still does. Papa recited Qur’an after Asr (afternoon prayer) and used to audio-play Surah Rehman too. That time used to be very peaceful and serene. There was so much in one single moment, the long dua(supplication) before breaking the fast (Papa sometimes leading us in that), their telling us to pray a lot for ourselves, those mutual prayers, we reciting Qur’an, Islamic discussions, offering prayers with Mama on the last ten nights, the Ramadan gatherings, hosting Iftars at home, almsgiving, Eid shopping, Chaand Raat(eve of Eid); observing each and everything with Mapapa was like a fleeting moment of my life that I wish could have stayed.
My Childhood memories of Ramadan have marked me for the rest of forever. The best thing about them memories is that mostly, they are not yours alone. You have your people who share them with you. I have carried them with me, like dreams that stay with you after you wake up. They are the heirlooms, always treasured. One thing I was always sure of was that when I would grow up and would look back at my childhood memories, I would realize that they are Never To Be Lost.
~ QuratulAin Hamza
QuratulAin Hamza 