Embracing thy neighbour: fasting in Ramazan as an Indian

What started as support for my Pakistani friend helped me unravel the deeper meaning of Ramazan and Islam

Being an Indian, if you would have asked me a year ago about Islam as a religion or even just about the festival of Eid, I would lack proper insight, much like anyone outside the religion and from “that”  side of the border so to speak. It wasn’t until 2019, when I moved to the people’s utopia called Canada that I realised I could not only share a house, but also my life with a Muslim, that too from Pakistan of all the places. And so our adventure began with us doing everything under the sun together. From studying to cooking, to dancing and sobbing and even just stargazing and feeling alive, together, in a place that was still strange to us. In sharing my life with my housemate, I also found myself enjoying and embracing the month of Ramazan.

As the holy month for Muslims drew close, I realised the joy it brought for my friend, as her eyes would light up when she spoke about it. Since this was her first Eid away from home, I decided to do what I can to make up for her family not being there and decided to keep the first fast with her for support. She even threw me a ‘Roza Khushai’ or celebration for keeping my first fast.

The local Muslim society in Kingston, Canada – Queen's University Muslim Student Association (QUMSA) – sent us scrumptious iftar delicacies, which helped bolster our Ramazan spirits. The warm, fuzzy, and homely feeling encouraged me to uphold the tradition and I ended up keeping many more fasts than the initial one I had intended upon keeping – it wasn't that I was unable to keep more fasts, I had just assumed I will not be able to. And, with that, a thought dawned upon me, more often than not, we doubt our potential and put a limit on our capabilities.

Ramazan also taught me the meaning of following a routine, the art of discipline, with the magic of detoxifying my physical and spiritual outlook. I felt like I was one with the forces of the universe as I started my day as the sun rose and wrapped it up as it set.

The experience of not being able to eat, even while having food in front of me, also made me acknowledge my privilege. Keeping the fast made me more empathetic as a person, as I realised how difficult life may be for those who may not be able to afford basic necessities or food.

Even though I started fasting merely to support my friend from Pakistan, my experience ignited an interest in the core of my heart. I started looking into the deeper meaning behind Ramazan and the religion. It was during this journey that I came across the word jihad and finally understood that it also means internal struggle. I realised that jihad, instead of being the blood and gore I imagined, is actually something similar to some of my practice of Buddhism. The Buddhist concept talks about overcoming inner darkness to become a better human being. It made me look deeper into Islam and its sanctified customs, while I became more tolerant as a human being in the process. I do sadly acknowledge, however, that the divide between our countries is too large.

And that my journey sounds like I am living in fantasy, especially if I take into account the way people feel on the either side of the Pakistan, India border. I cannot deny the hate or the marginalisation of minorities that is rampant on either sides.  And as a liberal Hindu, this religion based discrimination has always bothered me and I had often questioned how one can be judged for their personal beliefs.

After I started sharing space with my Pakistani Muslim roommate, I learnt that her thoughts on the matter were the same as mine. I also found solace in the fact that my roommate and I are not the only ones that felt this way. There are many people who are now opting to not identify and value people based on their religion but as individual human beings.

And it is true that my experience alone may not change the course of events but if you,  as a Muslim, are reading this – that is victory enough. The seeds of ‘aman’ (peace) have been sown, at least in some way. I also realise that as important as these small steps are, we must collectively come up with solutions  to ensure that people are not denied their basic right to live based on their religion. So I want to pose this question to you; how do we put all the Hindu-Muslim hate behind us and respect each other on a basic, individual level, as fellow human beings?