The month of Ramzan, as an annual prospect, signifies as a month of practicing restraint, modesty and patience. For those of us living with ailing grandparents, it’s also a poignant interlude of strife and service.
Growing up, Ramzan in my household was marked with a flurry of excitement. There were new mealtimes to prepare for and an updated menu to accommodate food preferences. The older members preferred the stable pakodi-chana fare and my sister and I wanted “something fancy” every other day.
The anticipation of difficulties that a household could face during Ramzan is an essential life skill and my Dadi (paternal grandmother) was quite literally the old hand in this game. For every whiny grumbling that my sister and I had the audacity to make, Dadi had a heroic story of how she braved Ramzan in her day. The stories almost always featured the oppressive summer heat, long journeys made on foot and examinations she always aced! The “Barakat of Ramzan”, as she called it, infused her with powers extraordinary to brave it all.