Before this lockdown, I was in Mumbai and was scared to spend the month of Ramadan alone. Ramadan is not only the month to pray for forgiveness, peace and love but it also holds strong memories from my childhood. It was everything from waking up at 3 in the morning for Sehri, to list down the food items we want to have in Iftaari. Golgappa from Tajnagri, Faalooda from Sadar Bazaar, Chowmein from Rajpur Chungi and Aaloo Chaat from Tajganj were used to be our major motivation for the entire day. Since it was always difficult to spend that one hour before iftaar, my brother and I often took a scooty ride around the city to kill our time. As a ritual of my family, to mark the beginning of this special month, my mother used to cook our most beloved Biryani for dinner on that first day of Ramadan.
Today, between the chaos, I am grateful to be at home with my family. Besides their company, nothing is the same as it used to be in Ramadan. On day 1 of Ramadan, I woke up with the sound of my mother talking to her sister over the phone. She lives in Rajpur Chungi which is one of the contentment zones in Agra. She told my mother not to buy Khajoor for Iftaar as people from different communities are spitting into it. Without any further speculation, she got her sources from social media. But from the next moment, there is no khajoor in the refrigerator, as my mother is too concerned. In addition, there is no Biryani either. So, this Ramadan, we don’t have any of our cravings on the plate but a lot of love served by my father in the form of Aloo pakora.
Unlike other metro cities like Delhi and Mumbai, Agra doesn’t have a very fine chain of delivery services. So you are always at the mercy of Ration shops and vegetable vendors in your society. Since I live near a Muslim ghetto called Mewati Nagla, one can easily find vegetable vendors who are Muslims. During this Ramadan, we stopped seeing them over there. But later on, one of the workers in the colony told that society president restricts the entry of any Muslim vendor in the colony. It’s difficult to digest this harsh truth for anyone hungry since morning. So, we fought and we lost it too. But remember, it’s a month of forgiveness and we forgive our society president.
Not only communal harmony I could see around me but some Migrant labours too. They are travelling with small kids and pregnant women. But you don’t usually see them walking into society for money and food. But I see them climbing on our Mango tree to pluck some raw mangoes. As a very possessive owner of that tree, the very first time I saw my mother just watching and praying for these people. After finishing her Namaz, she told me how Ramadan is about helping each other not just with money but you can also do it with a warm smile to make them feel that they belong here. This might be one of the important lessons I have learnt in this Ramadan.
When Hameed told me to write about Ramadan in Agra, I found it difficult because it’s very personal to me. Lockdown may not bring ease into our lives but surely teaches us about how less is more. You start finding more in little attention from your friends and family. You realize more in just being kind to everyone. You do more by making people aware of negativity spreading on social media. You also do more by staying home and keeping your family safe. From this Ramadan to next, the one thing I would want to take forward, is to be grateful for everything you have and everything you can give.
Till then, Ramadan Mubarak
