My mind is turning back pages in time ... to a couple of years ago when I lived in my home country Pakistan in Karachi, the City of Lights. The night of the new moon ... the Ramadan moon ... used to be a night of great festivity. I was usually found, during the day, running the last minute Ramadan shopping lists with my mother. The most fresh item to grab just on the eve of Ramadan was mithaai, the sweet treats for Sehri, the pre-fasting meal.
The eve would begin with the typical moon sighting drama where some seriously far flung, remote areas of the country would suddenly bear witness of having sighted the new moon. Whereas, the awesome Mufti Muneeb ur Rehman would still be engaged in sighting it with his buddies of the Hilal Committee.
At times, announcements would take a really long time to confirm the moon sighting! I remember once everybody got the breaking news at around midnight, the nation had missed a Taraweeh, and my mother was suddenly in the panic mode! The housemaid was being woken up, the watchman was being stirred alive, and seher preparations had just jolt started! Ah! Those were the days!
All cellular phone networks would get jammed because people were sending Ramzaan Mubarak texts around the country to their family and friends. Phone lines would all become engaged because everybody was busy calling up the entire planet.
The men of the house would shower, put on their "special" kurta pajama/shalwar, douse Itar and get ready for Taraweeh prayers at their local mosques. The women would be busy arranging their kitchens which would boil, bubble, broil, grill, and fry traditional delicacies for Iftar and Seher meals for the net 30 blessed days.
Outside, the bakers and confectioners would be all ready with their huge bubbling cauldrons of oil, frying up rolls, samosas, jalebi, imarti, and what not!
I must mention my wonderful girlfriends who always got busy planning Iftaar menus, Iftaar cum dinner reunions, and Eid preparations on endless phone calls, text messages, and even between lectures at college.
The spirit of Ramadan is brilliant in the USA too but having spent 24 years of my life in Karachi, Pakistan, the festive connection of the heart is always missing.
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