Memories of Ramadhan past, hopes for Ramadhan to come

I've been under the weather of late. I have been wanting to log in an entry since the eve of Ramadhan but the alternate hot and rainy days played havoc on my system. The long subdued asthma started to act up and it took a few days of consistent medicating to get it under control.

It is the third day of fasting and today it happened! Tidor lambat sebab nak tengok `The Astronaut's Wife' menyebabkan sahur pun terbabas! Nasib baik petang tadi, we managed to get free bubur lambuk from the mesjid...so that became our sahur. I better make sure this entry is finished soon, cos if I'm late again for sahur, I don't think big boss is going to be so kind as this morning. `tak pa lah...kita makan apa yang ada lah...he said when I woke him up at 5.30 this morning.

Ramadhan is a blessed month. For as long as I can recall the days were for fasting and during the nights, my father would Imam the 20 rakaat Tarawikh and 3 rakaat Witir. As a kid, I used to feel intimidated by the sheer thought of performing 23 rakaats of prayers. Later on in life, living away from home for much of my young adult life, I opted to continue with the ibadah. I came to value and appreciate the strength and will to push myself to the limit. Nothing equals the feeling of celebrating Raya when you have sincerely performed your fast every day and topped it with Tarawikh and Witir every night. Lately my mission has also been to khatam the Al Quran at least once during Ramadhan and round it up with the 6 days of fast in Syawal. InsyaAllah, I hope this year I will be blessed to carry it through.

Ayang used to tag along when I perform my Tarawikh at the nearby madrasah. As a young kid of 3 or 4, she would not miss it for the world, struggling to keep pace with me as we take the short walk every night as soon as the Mu`azzin calls for Isya' prayers. I would bring along a small pillow, her favorite story or coloring book and a bottle of milk. There, while we prayed, she would roll and suckled on her bottle of milk. Most nights she would be fast asleep by the time we were at 8 or 10 rakaats. I so wanted her to experience the whole works.

Years later, when her cousins were old enough to join us, they did. By then, everybody would put on their telekung and performed at least 8 rakaat. It was so exciting for them, to feel part of the crowd, to feel they are big enough to join the adults.

Ayang was back home for her mid semester break recently. She told me that she was not feeling well and that she'd skipped the Tarawikh that night. It was to be the first Tarawikh of the year.

Yet there she was. As she sat beside me while we waited for the Imam to start the prayers, my heart welled up with pride and doa that this young adult beside me understands and appreciate what I have tried to instill in her all those nights a long time ago, that she will continue with it long after I am gone and that she will do the same for her children, insyaAllah.