Deeply historic and overwhelmingly celebrated - the month of Ramzan, with many attributes and cohesive properties, this Holy month is celebrated with unparalleled zest and zeal all around the world. A high-time for spiritual cleansing, it strikes me astoundingly as to how a tradition rooted in a medieval past far gone can bring so many of us, from varying walks of life, together in sanguinity. 

I am completely awe-struck by how carefully designed and self-sustaining mechanism operates in our world, one that silently moderates the nature around us, but almost goes unnoticed not for the thought-provoking time one has in the month of Ramzan. 

Recently, while running a grocery errand for my mom, I stumbled upon an ensemble of people, who appeared to be mendicants, but purported very sated smiles—smiles that one wouldn’t necessarily associate with scorching summer temperatures and hunger and thirst. Befuddled, I approached them to inquire how, even in this month of ostensible starvation, they managed to adorn their faces with wide smiles amidst the summer heat that befell from the skies as a fierce force, blinding my vision as I leaped forward.

As I launched into conversation with these people, one of the members picked up a piece of stone that lay nearby, and pointed towards a seeping crack that decorated it. I couldn’t immediately notice what he was trying to insinuate towards so I had to ask him how he managed to go without food and drink the whole day, and here he was, boasting a piece of pebble. Unrelated and perhaps superfluous as it initially seemed, the analogy was pertinent. I eventually noticed that the man was pointing towards an ant that was steadily making its way out of the crack, and as I asked, the man began:

“So, you see, even this ant that lives inside a random crack on a random pebble in a random corner of the world is striding out of the crack with a piece of green leaf all by itself.” 

And that’s exactly what the ant was doing—making an effort to chew the little green leaf. 

“And your point is..?” I asked, partly cognizant of what his point might be, still in search of assurance. 

“It isn’t a mere coincidence that an ant living in a pebble goes to bed sated and even glutted at times. And I being a human being; there is not a single night when my Creator doesn’t bestow upon me with food to break my fast.” 

And, as though he had been eavesdropping on our conversation, a man appeared out of nowhere, carrying with him a pouch full of dates, fruits, and fried items. As he accosted us, handed that pouch over to the man I was talking to, and then left as if vanished — like God had literally lent a helping-hand to the mendicant. 

The world may seem arbitrarily placed, the nature even more so, but there is an entity that operates in a way that is mysterious but equally self-sustaining. A human kidney, for example, short of water supply in Ramadan, is less permeable and retains most of the water it gets supplied with; a fetus, progressing through its transition as a notochord and so on, grows in a way that has remained constant ever since the world’s inception, and will be constant forever and always. Yet everything has an underlying mechanism due to which it works, and the month of Ramzan, for me, is a time to get closer to the entity that designs and executes so eloquently all of the mechanisms that it renders me agape and in awe of His prowess. 

Ramzan, the time of observing how our world works in a way that sustains life; every day, millions of cells in our bodies go through a remitting phase of uncontrolled cell division that, if allowed to carry on, can foment Cancer. But the specifically designed process of Apoptosis—or programmed cell death—among other processes, makes sure these cells are curbed. It is poignant, really, how our nature tries to sustain life to the best of its ability. 

The word Ramzan evokes the togetherness of exactly these seemingly disconnected streams of thoughts to become whole. These thoughts have always been, and still are, central to the aspect that calls me towards my creator and humbles me in gratitude, so much that I’m left trembling as I am right now.