Hunger games

“I love Ramadhan!” said a non-Muslim friend of mine.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because there’s Ramadhan bazaar!” she said excitedly.

“I hate Ramadhan!” said another non-Muslim friend of mine, a Chindian.

“Why?” I asked.

“Thanks to my Malay-like features, I always get stared at. These days, I end up wearing a big cross around my neck just to show people that I am a Christian and not a Muslim!” she said, irritated.

“I don’t get it. Every time I ask Muslims why they fast, I keep hearing the same answer – that they do it to experience how it feels to be poor,” said another non-Muslim friend.

“What don’t you get?” I asked.

“Why should one refrain from eating to feel empathy for the unfortunate? Can’t you feel the suffering of others without suffering yourself? I mean, if you see me burn my hand, you don’t have to burn yours to feel sorry for me,” he explained.

While my non-Muslim friends openly discuss and debate about Ramadhan and its practices, it is not the case for many of my Muslim friends who are unable to freely express their views or criticise, fearing the backlash from family, friends, community and religious authorities.

Hunger Games, Malaysian style

Labelled the holy month, Muslims in Malaysia are repeatedly reminded year after year, not to buy too much food at Ramadhan bazaars, not to spend lavishly breaking fast at buffets, not to eat too much during breaking of fast and not to waste too much food.

We are also reminded not to be involved in unholy activities throughout the month – this means no partying, no clubbing, no going to concerts and no indulging oneself in entertainment.

Those who can’t fast or don’t feel like fasting are reminded not to eat in public.

It’s the same hype every year when Ramadhan comes around as we play this pretentious game to be holy in this “holy” month:

“Don’t do this!”

“Don’t do that!”

“Do more of this!”

“Do more of that!”

We are encouraged to cover more skin; take up the hijab challenge; wear less make up; forswear swear words; read the Quran; go for terawih; eat dates; and be proud of our stinking breath.

Every Ramadhan, we Muslims become more religious – simply because that’s expected during Ramadhan. We chant that Islam is ‘a way of life’ - how amusing.

“Make full use of Ramadhan while the gates of Paradise are opened and the devils are chained!”

Blah blah blah.

Month of purgatory

People say Ramadhan brings out the best in everyone – but the truth is, it doesn’t. Ramadhan only brings out the worst in all of us – and that too without the help of the devils.

All Ramadhan does is make us hypocritical as we pretend to be holier than others.

“Are you fasting today?”

“You look fresh, not fasting ah?”

“You keep going to the toilet; secretly drinking tap water is it?”

“I can smell cigarette. Who is not fasting?”

For many Muslims in Malaysia, Ramadhan has become the month of purgatory where the chains that are supposedly used to restrict the devils are also used to imprison Muslims who ignore the precepts of Islam.

These Muslims who are less pious or who are no longer practicing the religion, are often caught between a religion with which they dissent, and a society which ignores their rights to live their lives, however they choose to live it.

Why should that be the case?

If Islam is truly a way of life, why can’t we respect the rights of individuals who do not wish to fast in the month of Ramadhan?

If Islam is truly a way of life, why do we go around snooping who is fasting and who is not?

Allah made us different from one another, with different physical attributes, different cultures and different beliefs. Likewise, He also allowed us to have different opinions on different things. Why then can’t we embrace these differences?

Celebrating Ramadhan

Ramadhan for me has never been about religion. Truth be told, I don’t even understand why Muslims are forced to dry our body for 13 hours or why fasting in Ramadhan is one of the five pillars of Islam.

I don’t understand why Muslims do not ask these questions or why we are unable to speak honestly when it comes to religious practices such as fasting in Ramadhan. There seem to be this constant need to defend the religion and its practices from differing views.

Maybe I am just a bad Muslim. Maybe,,,-

Honestly, the reason I fast in Ramadhan is because of my parents. Raised in a family with strong religious beliefs, I know how important it is to my parents to have their children fast.

Ramadhan for me is a time to reconnect with my family. Having sahur together in the wee hours of the morning, guessing whose stomach grumbles in the middle of the day, helping each other in the kitchen as we prepare for berbuka puasa, sitting together at the dining table while waiting for the Maghrib azan and waiting for my parents to complete their terawih prayers – those are special moments I fondly wait for every Ramadhan.

That is why I fast.

I believe everyone has his or her own personal reasons as to why he or she fasts, or choose not to fast. I believe everyone should be given the flexibility to do so.

This Ramadhan, let us remember that a difference in opinion is a good thing. Be it a Muslim who fasts or a Muslim who doesn’t, let us come together and unite without being hostile to each other. by FA ABDUL - mkini