Thirty years ago during the
monsoon season in India
Thirty Years Ago ...
It started raining followed by a light
drizzle, a pair of eyes slowly moved towards the adobe floor,
carefully browsing the colourful food, freshly prepared for the very
occasion – the holy month of Ramadan, often called ramzan in India.
The little boy barely six six yrs old slowly moves his eyes towards
the Gray gloomy clouds meandering in the late evening, his thoughts
were suddenly broken by a firm hand put on his forehead to check his
fever, he complained about the absence of fever, lack of free time to
play with his friends.
As the evening came close to sundown,
people started gathering around the room, a pinch of excitement, and
the presence of an elderly and deeply spiritual person – suddenly
there was an aura of calm , the gentle ticking of the clock, and that quick motion to check the time for iftaar - “we still have fifteen
minutes to iftaar” says his father. The boy sheepishly wakes up
from the notional slumber, quietly washes his face three time, washes
three quarters of his hand , massages his forehead, and washes his
feet three time. This entire ritual is knows as wazu or wadu or
simply an ablution .
A stark voice announced his name from
his elder to hurry up, the aroma of food from the nearby Kitchen has
permeated his nostrils accelerated his washing, followed by a
feverish dash to large room where luminaries are waiting to open the
fast. The little boy huddled between his father and his brothers for
the final dua, properly known as the time when God listens to the
call of the humans – finally the hour came, everyone could hear the
azaan, the call to the prayer. All of them started eating dates, and
started gulping the sweet smelling red drink, which is followed by a
sigh of relief on the faces of all the fasting gentlemen.
The small boy was handed a date , he
quickly put it on his mouth and it tasted awful like bitter chocolate
which he hates, next he tried his luck with the rich, red colored
drink , aha tastes good but the glass is half full, so he went for refill but his brothers have
emptied the jug – a quick gloom surrounded his face, not knowing
what to do next– suddenly there was a rush to vacate the room and
jump start evening prayer, the first innings of opening the fast is
over – the old spiritual man burped and then smiled with
satisfaction – a job well done.
The rain has gathered pace and
everyone huddled to the next room for the magrib prayer or the
evening prayer after sundown. The little boy sheepishly followed his
elders and did exactly what his brothers did. The spiritual man
finished his prayers with gaiety and slowly went to the other room to
start his second course of eating. The little boy was hollered by his
mother and he rushed to his mom's lap and found more coloured drink
which is often called rooh-afza, the summer drink of the east. The
food was still fresh , and he hard time deciding on what to eat- he
devoured some samosas, choley, pakoras, dahi vadas, fruit chats, and
snacks.
Nightfall has settled it's time for him
to take those perilous pills and say goodnight to the rest.
