It is 4 a.m. and surprisingly my house is quite loud. My siblings and I are fueled by a weird burst of pre-dawn energy, my mom is either cooking or talking about the dream she just had and my dad is still in bed, counting down the exact seconds he has left to sleep before he needs to eat. This is the ‘Suhoor’ scramble, and how my day begins.
But that 4 a.m. adrenaline has a line which is drawn right when I walk towards school. By the time the first period bell rings, that energy is gone. It is replaced by the realization that I still have six hours of school and a loud, empty stomach to manage.
Before Ramadan, a granola bar was just a small snack between classes. Now? It’s a luxury.
Lunch time makes it a bit more difficult. The smell and sounds of chip bags and energy drinks opening hits like a brick wall. My friends try to be polite by hiding their food and eating quietly.
Fasting has a weird way of clearing your vision. When you spend a day with a low battery icon flashing on you, you start to notice the things you usually ignore. I’m not just grateful for the big things; I’m grateful for the cold water bottles, snacks from the cafeteria, and the fact that I even have a full plate waiting for me at the end of the day. It’s a reality check. It reminds me that for some people, that ’empty stomach’ feeling isn’t a choice—it’s their everyday. It makes me realize how much I usually take for granted.
People always ask me, “Isn’t it torture?” and sometimes it does get very hard but there is also a weird kind of pride in it too. It’s like a mental reset button, it reminds me that I’m in control of my body, not the other way around. It makes that first sip of water at sunset taste like a five-star meal.
Finally, school is over and the real wait begins. The kitchen smells amazing and every minute feels twice as long as the one before.
3 hours… 2 hours… 1 hour…
I’m watching the clock like it’s the scoreboard in the final seconds of an overtime game.
10 minutes…
This is usually the hardest part. My stomach is growling, and the food is right there, but I try to take a few minutes to pray before I break the fast. Honestly it’s difficult. It’s hard to stay focused when your brain is basically just a picture of a cold glass of water. But that’s the point. Pushing through those last few minutes of hunger to find a second of peace is where the real growth happens. It’s that final test of “mind over matter” before the reward.
And then—finally—it’s time.
