Ramazan in Islamabad

No matter the years that add up to my double digit age, I still feel 13 when I have to wake up for Sehri. Its not easy hearing the shrill call of the alarm followed by my mother knocking incessantly on my door and eventually opening my eyes to pitch darkness. It gets better after that though..... walking downstairs following the smell of parathas and greeting the rest of my family who is also not fully awake yet but somehow seated at the table trying to focus hard on the task at hand. Eat and drink your fill in 40 minutes. The chit chat is brief. Soon enough we are all layering our tootbrushes, brushing away and geting ready for the morning prayer. Prayers done, a few pages in the Quran read..zip in to bed I jump.

Morning arrives sooner then it should and its time to get dressed and take myself to work. Working hours are shorter and colleagues a little bit more understanding than what is usual. Its nice to have other empty stomachs for company.... they get it. Soon enough its time to avoid all the disasters waiting to happen on the road and drive home. Afternoon prayers said, and a nap under the belt, its time to join the other hungry comrades in the kitchen and help make the iftari. Welcome to the best part of the day. The entire process of preparing food when you have not eaten for over 15 hours is one of the most satisfying experiences. The azaan is heard loud and clear and some minutes later everyone reads the roza iftar dua and pops a date, followed by lots of fruit chat, many pakoras, glasses of rooh afza, and then the main course curry and chapati....ssss. Ahh...bliss. Then the much awaited cup..ss of chai over some family banter. A place for everything and everything in its place.