Time And A Word

8 Ramadhan 1434

By my reckoning time slows down in the month of fasting such that a day lasts twice as long as usual. This applies, by the way, to the hours after breaking the fast as well as the hours spent fasting. Of course, when you're fasting time slows down as you wait, patiently, patiently, impatiently, patiently, until that wonderful moment when you can lift the embargo on liquids easing their way down the gullet. But once the fast is broken, far from time rushing by to get you back to the desert, as you might expect, the opposite is the case. You seem to have endless hours at hand to munch and gurgle delightedly, even when you don't actually do any of that. (It's the license to do so that's crucial, you see.)

I suppose it all comes down to the intensity of every aspect of the experience.

Which leads me to my point. I realised today that I've spent well over a year of my life fasting now - that is, putting together all the Ramadhans I've enjoyed since the later years of the 1990's. And since each of those was twice as long as any normal month that means I've gained a whole extra year of life. Not a bad bargain eh?