Ramadan – a month of fasting for Muslims – starts tomorrow. I’ll be fasting too tomorrow.
I’m not Muslim. This is not a trial run to see if I could handle it should I meet a handsome Muslim man I wish to marry. Nor is this decision out of solidarity for my many Muslim friends and neighbours.
I’m just so bloody curious!
Every year I enjoy the fruits of Ramadan. Our Muslim neighbours shower us with sweets, savoury tarts and all things lekka during this month, but I never feel like I really deserve it. I’m so fascinated by my friends who spend the entire day slaving away without even a drop of water to get them through it. It boggles my mind.
The ritual (for lack of a better word from my limited vocabulary) of fasting is not for health or weight loss or any such superficial reasons. It’s a spiritual thing. I can’t explain it properly. Wikipedia says:
“Fasting is intended to teach Muslims about patience, humility and spirituality”.
I could definitely do with more of those things.
So I’ll be fasting from about 06h10 tomorrow morning until sunset and trust me, I’ll let you know all about it!