thirteen

i spent the entire month of ramadan incessantly complaining about how hungry i was, how sick i was of waking up to eat and pray at 4am and how it wasn't even worth it because i'd gained two kilos rather than shed them.

however, now that the moon is out and it's all over for another year, i feel... like something wonderful has slipped from my grasp. as i sat there sipping my lemonade and staring out at the indigo post-twilight sky during the last iftar of the year, i had a moment of sadness. ramadan is the muslim's version of christmas. a time for food, family and general happiness.

after this eid weekend, we will all return to our monotonous lives of urban drudgery. there will be no sehri and iftar to paint our days with an element of meaning and purpose, no sense of achievement and sacrifice from fasting for twelve hours straight despite having been at uni from 9am to 7pm.

ah well, enough mourning. it's eid! which makes it impossible to remain down-cast about anything for more than two minutes.