Ramadan is
almost over, but not yet exactly. It gives my post just enough time
to be relevant.
After
observing me for a month not eating, wandering around drained of all
energy, pushing myself to do anything, giving up and falling asleep
whilst watching a historical documentary, my sweetest and dearest had
to ask: “Why?”
The first
answer is obvious. I am a believer and as such I think I owe it to my
belief to dedicate a month to it once a year. Not because I fear
ending up in hell. I do not care much about paradise and the eternal
flames. Besides, I am not in it for fear of punishment or greed of
reward. Although I admit my belief has to do with fear – namely,
that of the meaninglessness of our existence and ultimately, death.
Then again, what human action doesn't come from them?
Ramadan is
therefore my month of spiritual laboring, with a hope that its effect
will last throughout the year.
Ramadan is
also cultural, a tradition I started taking part in as a child.
Fasting reminds me of that time and of the loved ones I left behind.
During it, I eat food which throws me back in time. The smell of that
soup, the touch of that pastry. Ramadan, just like Christmas, also
connects me to people all around the world.
To me,
Ramadan is also revolutionary. For a whole month, I am out of the
daily tyranny of the Get More Done. Having no energy, I stop being a
work force to just be a human. I use my strength with great economy,
thinking carefully before acting. I only go to the essential, at work
and at home. No triviality allowed. No messing around. With that drop
of energy comes a certain peace. My whole body slows down, and so my
mind. I become more contemplative.
Once the
essential is done, there is still plenty of time before break-fast.
It is an opportunity to do what one never takes the time to do: sort
out papers, watch a five hours documentary with your mother, cook
complicated meals. Cooking being the only way to get anywhere near
food, I do an awful lot of it during Ramadan. Then when comes dinner,
none of it gets eaten. The stomach shrunk. A soup is all. And a few
sweets. Which means no weight lost. Never mind. Having fantasised
about those cakes all day long, you just eat them.
Finally, not
eating the whole day makes me appreciate food, drinks and having
energy rushes. In fact, studies have shown that fasting was good
against depression and in some cases had cured heavy psychiatric
illnesses. Part of it has to do with the metabolism, sure, but part
of it is the simple deprivation – supply of aliments mechanism.
Now, the
biggest reward of all, after a month of Ramadan, is the celebration
of its end. Where I come from, it starts with a longed-for breakfast
with traditional pastries - or as my aunt would say, “just bread
and butter. I've missed it so much.” Given how late I always am, I
won't get to tell you about it until is is already Christmas, so here
it goes: breakfast is followed by the mosque (for men who attend it),
a couscous for lunch and visits to and from friends and family. You
should wear something new, and children receive money from adults.
Now, see you later, I am going back to my baking. Have I mentioned I
am running late?
yeaaaaah!
ReplyDeleteI always wanted to do it. Can non-Muslims join? :-)
L and I are doing water-melon island (one or two days of nothing to eat/drink but watermelon), and it similar. Not the faith thing, but the energy-saving food-appreciating side. Ca fait du bien!