O Happy Day

Hari Raya Puasa, Eid ul-Fitr; 1 Syawal, 1446

06.55

Just completed the Dawn Prayer after donning my baju raya. Now sipping on a milo, which feels happily transgressive somehow, even though it very happily isn't. Will be on our way to the second session for Hari Raya Prayers at Masjid Darussalam quite soon - but should happily have time for a big coffee - my first for a month - ahead of that.

10.00

Now back from the masjid. A beautiful morning - overcast, with just the slightest touch of drizzling rain now & then, enough to cool and refresh. Noi is about to continue her preparations for our guests this afternoon. And I'll get a bit of work done. And I mean a 'bit'.

14.05

Noi has just invited one or two other folk around, beyond the expected guests from family. She advised Boon to bring a container. Sounds like she's been cooking on an epic scale. But since she stayed up all night doing 'stuff' - as she is wont to do every year on the eve of Raya - this is not exactly news.

17.50

Our first tranche of guests have been sent happily on their way(s). Now preparing for Part 2 of the proceedings. It's all go!

22.06

And having said farewell to the second tranche of well-fed visitors there's just time to wish everyone everywhere Eid Mubarak! and we're off to a brief sojourn in the Land of Nod.

A Bit Of A Diversion

29 Ramadhan, 1446

During the vacation week, some fourteen days ago, I realised I would be easily able to complete the reading I'd planned for Fasting Month. Isa Kamari's Pilgrimage was proving an easy, quick read, and, if anything, I needed to slow myself down in my second encounter with Ziauddin Sardar's fascinating Reading The Qur'an in order to have time to genuinely reflect on ideas that powerfully resonated with me. I deliberately spun out my reading, finishing the book yesterday, happily musing upon its interpretation in its final sections of the role of Science and the Arts in Islamic thought. But this meant I had ample time to get on with something else of reasonable substance over the second half of the month - and I wondered whether to simply get back to my 'on-going' reading of fiction (which meant resuming my chunky The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes.)

In the event I hit upon a neat solution to this mild dilemma. It struck me that having come to  the conclusion some time back that I could more than happily buy into the proofs for the existence of God offered by Prof Ed Feser, I wasn't capable of explaining any of the proofs in genuine detail to anyone who might be foolhardy enough to ask me to do so. Basically this reflected lazy thinking on my part. Having completely accepted Aristotelean metaphysics - indeed, having felt their illuminating power - I couldn't give a coherent outline of Aristotle's system even to myself.

So it was that I decided a reread of Prof Feser's The Last Superstition was in order. In addition to providing the exposition of Aristotelean ideas I needed to reacquaint myself with and thoroughly take on board, I thought I might enjoy the writer's indulgence in what is often a bracingly funny polemic against the self-styled New Atheists who were so vocal and full of themselves at the onset of this century. In the event I thoroughly enjoyed re-visiting all the jokes and, this time round, I reckon I have a good chance of really internalising the key ideas that kept escaping me. And just to make sure they lodge in this tired old brain of mine I've decided to reread the other two key works by the prof that sit on my shelves ahead of Ramadhan 1447, insy'allah. 

The Bigger Picture

28 Ramadhan, 1446

We enjoyed an excellent natter with John & Jeanette last Sunday, gainfully zooming in across the miles. In the course of our less-than-in-depth discussion of issues of a geo-political colouring it emerged that the Simpsons and their social circles are finding it difficult to avoid reference to the current POTUS, even though nobody wants to go there (to the issues, I mean, as opposed to the actual place. Though I don't think anyone's particularly keen to fly the Atlantic as things stand.) They were wondering if that's the way of things in this Far Place and, yes, I reckon it is. Reference to the craziness of the governing regime is sparing, since it's deeply depressing, but ultimately irresistible, since its's deeply real.

So even as I seek to cultivate my spiritual garden in Fasting Month I can't help but expose myself to Trump news at a glance. And then wish I hadn't.

In Production

27 Ramadhan, 1446

Readers familiar with the musings featured in this Far Place will know that the final days of the Fasting Month see heightened activity in this household. Not from Yours Truly, I hasten to add, but from The Missus who dedicates her remarkable energy and talents to putting the house in order whilst simultaneously magicking up lots of festive goodies. Some of these are intended for consumption within the premises, but most are sold to those who've been made aware of the magic involved. These now constitute quite a number.

There's something strangely comforting about being surrounded by biscuits & cakes & the like even when you're not actually munching on them.

Keeping It Fresh

26 Ramadhan, 1446

For the last couple of years my choices of Islamic-themed materials for reading in the Holy Month have gone well. I'm on track for finishing Ziauddin Sardar's excellent Reading The Qur'an ahead of Eid. There's been at least one penetrating idea on every page and often more. It's another example of my re-reading of a text I thought I knew quite well being quite startling in terms of the 'freshness' of the experience.

And I found reading Isa Kamari's Pilgrimage, an English translation of a selection of his poems related to his experience of the Haj in 2001, equally fulfilling - and helpful in my appreciation of the Malay language as the originals are published alongside Harry Aveling's deft translations. In this case I wouldn't characterise the poems as 'penetrating' in their evocations of what it's like to fulfil the demands of Haj; rather their lean simplicity and sincerity conjure that singular yet shared experience in a way I found deeply sympathetic to my own rather less articulated feelings.

And now I'm off to do some actual reading as opposed to just prattling about it.

Enlightenment

25 Ramadhan, 1446

When you're seeking for illumination sometimes just a little light is enough.

Weakness

24 Ramadhan, 1446

When I suffered my breakdown back in September 2022 I learnt a deep lesson about vulnerability. Quite a simple, indeed, obvious one, but a lesson that's easy to forget - certainly for myself, and I suspect for most people. Here's a simple statement of that lesson: We are all painfully vulnerable, and wisdom lies in understanding how easily we, and our little worlds, can fall apart. I think I'm a bit wiser now for cultivating that awareness and part of the wisdom of the Fasting Month is getting in touch head-on with that vulnerability. Weakness is written into the fabric of the human condition, and an awareness that there have been more than a few moments in which I have not handled the demands of the month in an entirely robust manner is a reminder of that essential, unavoidable truth.

When I come to celebrate getting through the month (as, God willing, I hope I'll be able to do in just a few days) I'll be reminding myself that any celebration should be of just getting through. And not triumphantly so. Just keeping going. Holding on.

Just keeping it real.

Distinctly Uneasy

23 Ramadhan, 1446

Some days are better than others. This one wasn't. 

But I'll be breaking my fast in roughly an hour from now. Which puts everything in proportion.

No Longer At Ease

22 Ramadhan, 1446

I've been enjoying a typically fairly lazy day of fasting, but this marks the final day of the vacation week, which means I need to get back in gear for work tomorrow. It isn't that I've been entirely neglecting the demands of my job over the last few days, but I have enjoyed relaxing more than somewhat, especially in terms of being able to nod off pretty much as and when I've felt the need to. Which has been often.

That luxury is about to be denied to me, I'm afraid. Still, good to finish the month being really tested.

Accepting My Limitations

21 Ramadhan, 1446

I know that I'm prone to think too much of numbers and targets. It can be useful to do so, to a reasonable degree, but over-thinking these things becomes tediously wearing. There's really not much point in counting the days of fasting. It won't speed up the month. And the whole point is to slow things down anyway.

Another number I found haunting me just now was the 50 minutes I spent on the elliptical trainer prior to breaking the fast. I'm perfectly okay with that number, but in the initial phases of my work-out I'd been seriously wondering about pushing up to 55 minutes and had pretty much developed the intention to do so by the 30 minute mark. The problem was that at 40 minutes I knew I was running out of the necessary reserves fast and it would be foolhardy to push it too hard just for the sake of a number.

In the event I gratefully, and wisely, stopped at 50 minutes; but I'm still just that little bit irritated by what now seems a bit of a failure. Following my own logic I can see I need to translate that irritation into a useful target for the future. As ever, the necessary wisdom of patience comes in more than handy.

Within Limitations

20 Ramadhan, 1446

Part of the fascination of the Fasting Month for me is how the discipline of not eating and drinking in the hours of daylight translates into the wonder of being able to do so once Maghrib signals its arrival. I've just finished a wondrously tasty confection of chicken & potatoes and it felt positively princely to do so.

Without the struggle the reward would be severely diminished.

We benefit immeasurably from our recognition of limits.

Further Limitations

19 Ramadhan, 1446

I'm looking at a reading list that my cousin John passed to me back in December. It's headed Beer, Blokes N' Books and features the titles of some 70+ novels his informal reading 'club' have tackled over the last couple of years (or possibly longer, I'm not too sure.) What I'm struck by is the sheer range of material they've engaged in, including a few meaty classics, with Middlemarch scoring particularly well. John explained to me how the ratings applied to each book were worked out, but I can't recall the process. I just know it sounded remarkably thorough for a group of blokes presumably reading just for the heck of it.

The thing is that John showed me the list almost deferentially, as if half-apologising for intruding on my territory. Yet the list puts my limited reading of the last couple of years to shame. I'd not even heard of their highest ranked tome, Kate Grenville's The Secret River, and had to google it just now. So much for my area of expertise, eh?

Ziauddin Sardar makes a big deal of The Holy Qur'an's call for humility, and rightly so. I interpret it as simply a recognition of the reality of our place in the vastness of it all. We're not up to very much, I'm afraid. But that can't be an excuse for not trying. And good on the blokes for giving it more than a go on the fiction front.

Limitations

18 Ramadhan, 1446

Ziauddin Sardar's Reading The Qur'an is in many ways inspirational, but can also weigh upon one. He wonderfully spells out what being a Muslim is about in terms of the expectations upon followers of the faith and evokes a deep desire in this reader to live up to those expectations. But he also ruefully acknowledges the ways in which the community has fallen, and continues to fall short. And the individual has to feel that failure.

Case in point: his pages dealing with Nature and the Environment comprise a stirring exposition upon the ecological message of the Holy Book, and the unequivocal nature of that message and our duties attendant upon it could not be clearer. All creation is sacred. Yes. And an awesome responsibility. So easy to neglect.

Half A Century Later

17 Ramadhan, 1446.

It's been a few years since I zoned out listening to synth-meisters Tangerine Dream. But I managed to do so before breaking the fast today. I must say, Phaedra sounds as good, if not better, than ever. And it felt good to get back in touch with the 18-year-old hippy quietly resident within. 

The Final Stretch

16 Ramadhan, 1446

Time has a way of slowing down in the last hour before breaking the fast. Today is no exception. And it contrives to move at quite some pace after Maghrib, as it will no doubt manage to do later in the evening.

Acceptance of its essential slipperiness is wise, but not mandatory.

Gifts

15 Ramadhan, 1446

11.40

A small highlight early in the day. Just read a gently moving article about a father and his autistic son and the healing-cum-expressive power of music. Amongst other things it manages to capture the magical power of the Beatles, a reminder of the gifts abundantly afforded us even in times of deprivation.

23.15

Got back about half an hour ago from an outing to Geylang. We were there partly to pay the last of our zakat, but mainly to enjoy the bazaar for Ramadhan. Lots of light & noise & energy, but not necessarily coming from us. The usual abundance. We live in a fortunate place enjoying fortunate times. For now, that is.

Off Guard

14 Ramadhan, 1446

Exiting the gym, having concluded a pre-buka stint, for the briefest of moments I found myself imagining drinking at the water fountain downstairs, as I would have been about to do at any time outside the Fasting Month. The picture in my mind didn't last long enough, however, to create anything like a genuine sense of longing, and I was able to let it fade with no sense of regret at all. But the moment served as a reminder of what a creature of habit I am, and how the experience of the fast teaches one to be on guard against the taken-for-granted, the thoughtlessly habitual.

I was reminded of how destabilising such moments are in the first couple of days of fasting when they last long enough to create that horrible sense of expectation leading to a kind of crushing regret. Fasting gets easier for most of us, I think, simply because of learning to keep those moments of yearning under control, and learning that the monkey mind can be re-progammed (to horribly mix a metaphor.)

I also found myself mulling over another aspect of my experience of fasting that I've found puzzling over the years. On those occasions when I've been fasting for a single day (as in the day prior to Hari Raya Haji, which is not a compulsory fast) I've never really been troubled by those off guard moments. Perhaps this is because I'm more single-mindedly focused on the single day fasts, whilst beginning a long fast involves a somewhat more diffused consciousness stemming from the awareness that there will be time ahead to change a number of aspects of the self.

It's all about intentionality, and the development thereof - a simple yet profoundly important notion, enshrined in the Islamic insistence on establishing one's niat for the fast on each and every day.

Gathering

13 Ramadhan, 1446

17.45

We're off down town in a few minutes to join some of my Muslim colleagues for our annual Iftar at an eatery in Arab Street. A sign that our experience of the month is starting to expand beyond the confines of the domestic experience. As ever Ramadhan contrives to blend the deeply personal with the inclusively public.

22.55

There's a lot to be said for keeping things bright & cheerful, as in the photo above. That's how Kampong Glam looks (bright & cheerful, I mean), and it proved well worth a visit.

Losing Oneself

12 Ramadhan, 1446

Lost myself just now in a trip to the gym. In two ways.

First of all, the 50 minutes I spent on the elliptical trainer passed almost effortlessly, after the first clumsy 10 minutes or so. I double-checked with my diary of last year a couple of days ago and realised that I'd reduced my work-outs back then from the usual one hour of cardio in view of the general demands of the month and this proved efficacious. So that's what I'm doing this year and tonight the strategy bore fruit. I lost all awareness of the sweaty self peddling away, going up that imaginary hill, and got lost thinking of other stuff - especially what I'll be doing in lessons early next term.

And then, walking back after completing the session, I encountered a gorgeous moon, not quite full, but nearly there as the lunar month moves to its mid-point. There're few better ways of annihilating one's personal concerns than soaking in impersonal beauty.

Postscript: Just thought of a third way in which the essential me was lost. After stepping off the elliptical trainer Face ID completely failed to recognise me. I assume I must have aged sufficiently through the exercise to be rendered unrecognisable. It's coming to something when even your i-phone doesn't know who you are, eh?

Anger Management

11 Ramadhan, 1446

I'm very prone to lose sight of the fact that the fast is not just about abstaining from food and drink. There's much else to exercise restraint over, especially in terms of excessive emotion. Given the peculiarities of my character that involves taking care not to get unreasonably angry.

Fortunately the natural process of aging has served to calm my propensity to explosive outbursts of rage. But I'm aware of a kind of low-lying irritability over the more debilitatingly foolish aspects of my life, especially in relation to the toad, Work. The value of fasting in relation to this problematic feature of my character is that I'm forced to keep things in proportion, and avoid harping upon the silliness-cum-unfairness of it all. Indeed, I have no choice but to laugh it all off, which brings considerable ease.

Sometimes you need to do something radical simply to achieve equilibrium.

A Prediction

10 Ramadhan, 1446

At some point in the next two or three days Noi will say something to the effect that we're already one-third of the way through the fast and it's passing so quickly. And I will agree, because I will genuinely feel the same way in that moment. But part of me will be thinking that time is passing very slowly indeed.

And another part will enjoy the paradoxical nature of all this, and think it so typical of the month. All very predictable yet freshly experienced and understood.

Testing Times

9 Ramadhan, 1446

After an enjoyably relaxing weekend with no deadlines in sight, today felt very different. Very long. A bit of a test. I recall checking the time around 10.45 am and thinking it really should be later in the day, but it wasn't. And the day took its time reaching the magic 7.20 pm, since when it has decided to speed up.

But it's a funny thing about such difficult days in Fasting Month. They remind you of what it's about. Without the struggle there would be no point. Restraint is a hard won virtue. But it makes itself available to the unlikeliest subjects.

A New Routine

8 Ramadhan, 1446

Glancing through some of my posts from this time last year I realised that I'd managed to get in some sessions at the gym ahead of breaking the fast, to no ill effect. Funnily enough I couldn't recall what that felt like in reality, but decided to give it a go today and see if it was a viable option for this year's Ramadhan.

It was a bit tough, let me tell you, but I managed. I set out to see if a full 60 minute stint on the elliptical trainer was possible, and up to the half hour mark I wouldn't have ruled it out. But 10 minutes later it was obvious I was struggling big-time to keep the wheels turning at anything like a reasonable rate, so I was happy to conclude proceedings after 50 minutes. Mind you, I followed this with my full routine on the weights without too much of a struggle, so the experiment turned out a success in my eyes. Now I'm keen to check my day-to-day diary from last year to see exactly how long I lasted then.

Actually breaking the fast after all this came as a considerable relief, but a pleasant one, so I'll be replaying the routine sometime soon.

Crashing And Communing

7 Ramadhan, 1446

The Missus saw fit to comment earlier in the day that I seemed very weak, and she was not wrong. I found it difficult to stay awake from the moment I got out of bed. I'd intended to get a good deal of reading done and some focused listening to sweet sounds, but spent a good deal of time dozing. Happily, enough. But lazily so in retrospect.

It was a good thing, then, that we'd arranged a meet-up with the gang at Woodlands to break the fast. The evening turned out suitably lively, in some part making up for the lack of direction of the rest of the day. And now I'm making ready for bed, intending to do a bit of reading to make up for the lack thereof during the hours of daylight.

I'm pretty sure, by the way, that I'll sleep well. My body is telling me I very much needed to catch-up on the zzzzzs, a sign that the day has not exactly been wasted after all.

Illuminations

6 Ramadhan, 1446

Whilst I've been galloping through his Muhammad For Beginners, my progress through Ziauddin Sardar's Reading the Qur'an: The Contemporary Relevance of the Sacred Text of Islam has been a good deal more leisurely and even more rewarding. When I first read it, probably a decade ago at a guess, I found myself very much in agreement with its basic positions on quite a few issues. But I didn't then grasp quite how deeply illuminating Sardar's analysis of the faith is. On this reading I find myself gripped by the explanatory power of his readings, and the precision of detail involved.

In his reading of the opening passage of Sura Al-Baqara, for example, his observation on what he terms the distributive nature of the Islamic worldview, in relation to the phrase spend of what We have provided them and the subsequent reference to prospering captures the essence of what the sacred text brings us to understand of a healthy relationship with money. The notion of a sense of generosity being central to the genuine prosperity of a person or nation is deeply sane, yet undercuts entirely the shabby paradigms concerning wealth that imprison us.

Just Beginning

5 Ramadhan, 1446

The first ten or so days of the Fasting Month seem to follow a similar trajectory for me every year. This takes the shape of something of a journey inwards, examining foundations. A kind of back-to-basics refreshment. Re-learning what I already know.

This year I've been re-reading Muhammad (peace be upon him) For Beginners in the Icon Books series (as pictured above.). It's one of those basic guides to a thinker or school of thought or conceptual notion, blending text and visual image in a sort of populist, cartoon-like style. I like this kind of text anyway, but Ziauddin Sardar and Zafar Abbas Malik's book seems to me a stone-cold classic of the genre. It's genuinely informative and visually highly engaging in what I can only describe as an Islamic fashion. And it contrives to be energetically humorous as well as deeply serious.

I suppose there's an element of comfort-reading involved here, but it's proving a valuable companion as I ease my way forward. 

A Small Surprise

4 Ramadhan, 1446

Surprised myself at the gym after breaking the fast. I'd intended to limit myself to 50 minutes, or less if feeling iffy, on the elliptical trainer, but easily managed a full 60 minutes. And I could happily have gone on to complete my usual full routine on the weights but cut this short due solely to time constraints and needing to get back for dinner and further prayers. I didn't expect to feel quite so 'normal' after just 3 days of fasting but am quietly celebrating the fact that this is the case.

Not over-celebrating though. I'm used to the struggle suddenly and unexpectedly becoming more difficult, more taxing. That's the point. of course. This isn't meant to be easy. But it's meant to be do-able, and quietly revelatory. And it works.

In The Slow Lane

3 Ramadhan, 1446

I'm still in slow time - experiencing feelings of being suspended between moments. Difficult to believe it's still only Tuesday when it feels like a week has gone by. Counter-intuitive. But then everything about Fasting Month is.

Slowing Down

2 Ramadhan, 1446

16.00

Feeling okay. No obvious headache. But it has felt like a long day. And it is by no means over. Just looking for the energy to keep going.

19.11

Literally counting down to buka, which is more than a bit childish. Why does time slow down in these circumstances and to whom can I complain about this?

22.07

No complaints at all from me now. The super-delicious rice porridge (our customary dish at the start of Ramadhan) has been consumed (along with a couple of curry puffs, some dates & lashings of teh tarik) and life is officially good. Very good, indeed.

Starting Over

1 Ramadhan, 1446

12.46

An okay day so far, but too early to tell. Nice not to be at work, but have been getting a fair amount of work done. No choice really.

14.25

Now sitting at my desk at work. Popped over to get a couple of tasks done. Discovered it's very hot outside just walking across here and spared a thought or two or three for my brothers & sisters in Islam working outside and fasting in these conditions. Quietly heroic. Certainly stops me moaning overmuch.

17.35

Back at the ranch with a bit of a headache, but nothing serious. Hurts a bit more when I'm lying down doing nothing, so am attempting to stay upright doing something.

20.00

Even a power outage just 10 minutes ahead of the breaking of the fast could not dim my mild sense of euphoria on taking that first sip of water and munching on that date. Quite a gift. Hope all observing the fast felt something of the same - and Selamat Berpuasa to all!

Happily Recovering

There's only one good thing I can think of at the moment about being poorly and in pain. Once the recovery begins it feels good. And that's what has brightened my day quite considerably, thank you.

It seems absurd to talk about the pain from a swelling on a small toe being debilitating. But it was. I don't mean this was true from the start. After all, the problem has been around for some three weeks and most of the time it was easy to ignore. However, from around Monday of this week it manifested as more than merely irritating, and by late on Thursday I think you might apply the description close to agonising for the worst moments, when the swelling was distinctly rubbing into the adjoining big toe.

So to feel some relief on going to bed after taking the first pill in the anti-biotic course was extremely welcome. And then, on waking, I was aware that although my body in general terms felt stretched & achy my right foot wasn't burning at all. Actually, I was a bit puzzled as to why I felt generally uncomfortably fragile since Friday hadn't been such a hard day work-wise, but I've come to the conclusion that in protecting myself from the pain I was not really moving easily and this left me with a sense of having pushing my aging body a bit too far. I also felt a mild headache on getting out of bed and for the first hour assumed I would have to treat myself to a very lazy day just to get back to feeling normal.

In the event, however, and somewhat to my surprise, the day has proved fairly productive so far. I found myself able to both get on with some marking and finish Schama's Citizens, which I'd been hoping to do ahead of the Fasting Month (which gets underway tomorrow, of course.) Plus, I managed to get to the gym after all, which seemed an impossibility at this time yesterday. The swelling which had been so ferociously uncomfortable has now distinctly reduced in scope and whatever pain there is doesn't rise to deserving the idea of being genuinely painful. I doubt very much I'll be needing to get myself to the hospital in the near future as the doctor seemed to think might be necessary.

Hoping also to finish Conan Doyle's The Valley of Fear this evening so as to leave the field clear for my reading for the Holy Month with no secular stuff left hanging, as it were.