7 Ramadhan, 1438
A packed day, so I only found time to realise how completely exhausted I was in the 30 minutes before breaking the fast. I conked out on the sofa as Noi was pottering about in the kitchen and, I suspect, had she not woken me to break the fast I would have remained solidly conked until well beyond Isha'. Incidentally, I only discovered just how incredibly thirsty I was in the minute or so before being able to consume the glass of iced water so fortunately prepared for me on the table. Looking at the glass I rediscovered the almost infinite wonder of common or garden H₂0 and, believe me, it tasted good. I actually felt it going down my throat and doing various wonderful things around my stomach.
I suppose the thirst was the result of doing a fair bit of yapping during the day, what with a lecture in the morning and rehearsing in the afternoon. But there was a nice break for Friday Prayers in the middle of it all at which, to my delight, the Imam turned out to be the inestimable Ustad Haron. His voice sounded in much better nick than mine. I suppose it's all the ice-cream he consumes.
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