ramadan freaks

Ramadan, what we normally call Ramzan, is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar based on the cycles of the moon phases. Unlike the Gregorian calendar, the globally accepted calendar, 354 days’ Islamic year means that the Ramzan would occur about 10-11 days earlier each year. After rotating for 33 long years Ramzan has again come in August this year. It would begin after the concerned religious authorities (in Kashmir the armchair Mufti Azam makes the announcement on local Doordharshan channel strictly as per the reporting of the Roiat-e-hilal committee of Pakistan) report about the sighting of the new crescent. Since the new moon is not in the same phase at the same time globally the beginning and ending dates of Ramzan would depend on the local lunar sighting. This is why Ramzan began this year on Saturday in Saudi Arabia as against Sunday in this part of world.

It is not many minutes before the stentorian loud speakers blare out Azaan for Isha, the last salah of the day. The faithful tumble out in droves to fill up the Masjids to overflowing. But then the freakish group as usual wants it postponed by one more day. They dearly love to have a Sha’aban of 31 lunar days. What worries them the most is that in the dead of ‘the wakey nights’ of the ‘qyamat say qyamat’ long  month, some eccentric insomniacs would unceasingly beat the cacophonic drum, shout ‘waqti-e-sahar’ atop his voice or from loud speakers to proclaim that the hapless fellows shall have to part with their dewy–feathered sleep to take untimely sahari. They would rather observe fasts empty stomach than see their sleep driven off. These sleepy heads would open their eyes to nibble at the sahari last minute before the expiry of the sahari (time). It is not however many jiffs before these guys are found (again) sleeping like a log. More often than not they offer fajr nimaaz only after the Sun rise.        

As if the month of Ramadan is going to be there to the last syllable of recorded time, the disinclined Roz-e-daar conjures nightmarish visions of the mind boggling hunger/thirst pangs and the curfew on the freak outs. For him every day of the month of Ramadan is a desert of vast eternity and therefore he is apprehensive of not surviving its onslaught. In this specter, as if gone nuts, he would quiz every Tom, Dick and Harry, ‘pagah roustoui ketsch douh roudhe id’ (after excluding tomorrow how many days are left for id?’) From the morning of the day one itself he is run down and in need of rest. By afternoon he is knocked out to the point of exhaustion. With his eyes skinned for muezzin to shout Iftiaar/Azan for Maghrib from the afternoon itself, he is ready to drop; he is more dead than alive. He would dare to eat ‘taap sahar’ (the brunch) and break the fast. As he can not imagine reading the tiresome 20 rakaats of Taraweeh late in the evening he simply makes up his mind. He declares that he is sick. The doctor advises (issues a medical fatwa) not to observe fasts lest it should adversely affect his health, and even his precious life.

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