This article first appeared in Capital, The Edge Malaysia Weekly on March 27, 2023 - April 2, 2023
In my life, the start of Ramadan is usually heralded by my non-Muslim friends calling up or messaging to ask: “Where are we going to buka puasa this time?” And this usually happens a couple of weeks before Ramadan has even arrived! It is a running joke in my circle of friends — I always know Ramadan is near when the calls come in and the discussions begin.
That it is my non-Muslim friends who most look forward to breaking fast (nowadays Arabised to “iftar”) is an irony that sparks joy in my heart, because it is a celebration of the Malaysia our founding fathers envisioned and is a blessing for which I am most grateful.
In the run-up to this Ramadan, I have found myself expressing gratefulness more frequently and emphatically than usual. When wishing Selamat Berpuasa to my tailor, grocer and just some random person in a lift last weekend, I also said, “Alhamdulillah, we have made it to another Ramadan. God has been kind to us.”
“Yes,” said the man in the lift, “How lucky we are to have survived the pandemic.”
We both got quite teary-eyed after that.
But though it may seem like it, the fasting month isn’t about sentimentality. Rather, it is about self-reflection. This is essential if one is to improve oneself.
Of course, to wake up every day is already a special blessing. But, most Muslims give thanks for the opportunity for another Ramadan because in this month, we are rewarded manyfold for the good that we do. And everyone needs to collect merit points while they can — think of it as investing early so that one can “retire” comfortably later.
In Malaysia, this is also the month in which we can safely be assured that there will be no elections or campaigning. This is not only because it is too hot and too tiring to have to stride down the campaign trail for weeks on end, but also because it is mistakenly believed that Muslims should not gossip, slander, fight or do anything negative during the fasting month — and what kind of election campaign would it be without all that?!
I say “mistakenly” because Muslims aren’t supposed to do any of that at any time in their lives — not just during the fasting month. Indeed, Ramadan is the springboard or training month for Muslims to practise being the best of themselves that they will carry on into the rest of the year.
It is this special focus on quiet contemplation that I especially cherish about this month. That, and the concentrated kindness and camaraderie that Muslims invest in during this period.
Muslims put in extra effort in this month to “menyambung silaturrahim” — to establish and renew relationships with family, friends, neighbours and the community in which they live. A Muslim who is always careful to maintain a good relationship with others will be blessed by God.
Hence, the myriad buka puasa gatherings throughout the month. Malaysians love food, and no gathering — not even funeral prayers — is complete without food. That some of them are gastronomic buffets in fancy restaurants is just capitalism at its best. Mostly, though, people take turns to host friends and family at home.
One of the best silaturrahim Ramadan I have ever had was some decades ago, when almost every buka puasa was spent at a different relative’s house, sitting on the floor, with the kain saprah (table cloth) spread all over the living room, and dozens of members of the extended family sat around it. I met with new family members, old family members, family members whom I didn’t know were family members, and some of their Muslim and non-Muslim friends or colleagues who happened to tag along. All were welcome, and much merriment was had by all.
Ramadan is such a special time for strengthening ties.
Every year, one of my Christian friends would look forward to attending buka puasa at his neighbourhood mosque and surau. A devout and infinitely compassionate person, my friend volunteers at his church, in a capacity with a complicated Latin term that I can never remember.
“I am the head of my church’s surau committee. When I explain it like that to Muslims, they all immediately understand what I mean,” he told me.
Every Ramadan, the imams at the local mosques would invite the church committee members to join them for buka puasa. My friend lives in a close-knit community, where everyone works together to make life better for all.
When my friend called me to wish me Selamat Berpuasa last week, he could not help but lament that he will miss buka puasa at the mosque and surau this year. Some politicians, in their infernal wisdom, had been stirring up religious sentiment nationally and the church committee, not wanting to visit trouble upon their Muslim friends, had decided to stay away this year.
“But it’s the mosque people who invite us, you know! We don’t invite ourselves!” he sighed.
My wish for this Ramadan is for the politicians and all those who would divide us to look deep into the meaning of silaturrahim, and either help build bridges or stand aside while the rest of us do.
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