We used to get ice-cream after Tarawih. Abah would stop by a grocery store and all of us would attack the ice-cream freezer. It was some sort of reward for praying tarawih, and if we prayed 20 + witir, Abah would let us pick ice-creams that are pricier
— the one with cones. It's such a pleasant memory; people talk about Ramadhan and I would recall the cold silence after tarawih, legs aching with all the praying but the night ends with a grape flavoured mat kool ice-cream, and the morning starts with yesterdays' iftar leftovers. This was approximately 10 years ago, Ramadhan for me as a child was really fun
— still is, only a bit different.
I think what I had back then, was a constant. A comforting loop of tradition that I held very dear, and as much as I love consistency, I think it would be marginally better to break it. I mean, there's just so much iterations of Ramadhan that is being spent in various parts of the world, and to be a part of someone else's Ramadhan and in the same time putting more flavor into yours creates a distinctive memory that would later on become very precious to you.
I think the pursuit of a colorful Ramadhan is very fascinating, and with everyone striving to be good, things just gets better. I like the fact that devils are being chained right now. The mere fact that a human's action is solely their doing is comforting. Everytime someone does something bad, people blame it to the devils, but with all the devils being quarantined, the only devils doing bad are...ourselves. And that's a fact to ponder upon. Whenever we fell like cursing, the devils didn't put the words in our mouth. Whenever a bad thought comes to mind, the devils didn't whisper it to our ears. Whenever we pray late, it wasn't the devil that delayed us
— it was us all along.
I am my own Iblis, this is me, thus I shall change.
Ramadhan Karim
Labels: motivation, note to self