My Little Ramazan - Day Thirteen

Mon 23rd August 2010

Today has been the day of getting things done. I have filed bank statements, paid bills, made calls, swept floors, washed dishes and been to the doctors. And no, not about the lady problem, but about my scabby thumb. This scab horror has been caused by the severe eczema I suffer from on my hands, which usually flares up at times of stress and worry. Stressed? Worried? Me? I’ve just eaten a Mullerice after twenty four hours of fasting, I’m in bloomin’ paradise.

I have also finally retrieved my husband. I brought him out of Dracula mode and we actually spent twenty minutes together today before he had to dash off to the world of kebabs and chicken goujons. Someone has to keep the people of Nairn satiated.

We are only thirteen days into Ramazan but already the start of it seems like a distant memory. Where are our romantic late-night meals? Where is the excitement? The togetherness? The purpose? I don’t have Allah to answer to, only myself. And every time my toddler has yet another meal without his mummy joining him, I do wonder if this isn’t all just a bit too difficult.

But, bearing in mind I could probably win first prize in a contest for optimism during hard times (I get it from my mother), I have to remind myself of this: It is supposed to be a challenge. Challenges are hard in ways we don’t expect, but, ultimately, we will learn something from it. So, this begs the question, what am I learning?

1.) That dehydration causes a million horrible things to happen to your body and mind and we could all be a lot more grateful for the clean water that pours from our taps.
2.) That food is ace. Simple but true. Let’s thank the heavens for that too.
3.) That some of my daily food and drink related rituals are nonsensical but some of them are justified and good.
4.) That I am able to discipline myself. I am, I am, I am.
5.) That my husband, although prone to epic sleeping bouts, is wonderful, warm, humble and devoted. He will never ask too much of me.
6.) That I am a bloody excellent wife.

Considering all of the above, perhaps I can find a new sense of enthusiasm for tomorrow morning. I just didn’t really imagine that the challenge I’d be facing would be a waning desire to do this. I thought it would be the hunger pangs, the dry mouth, the dizzy spells (which are all pretty nasty, by the way). I thought that a cacophony of physical symptoms would be my biggest problem but actually, unexpectedly, it’s the mental commitment.

Let’s look at the maths:

Devoted wife + Muslim husband = Undertaking Ramzan together in harmony
Devoted wife – Muslim husband = Undertaking Ramazan separately
Undertaking Ramazan separately = Lost passion for the cause

Ah, now that adds up. So the answer to the formula is to reunite Devoted Wife and Muslim Husband for longer than twenty minute time slots starting tomorrow. I didn’t get a ‘B’ in GCSE Maths for nowt you know.