Before we know it, Ramadan is inching closer to a completion and there’s a lot to take away from this month. It’s now as good a time as any to reflect myself on how ‘well’ I’ve done in this holy month.
In all honesty and in trepidation: I believe that I hadn’t done my greatest.
There were moments where I catch myself regretting severely the thoughts in my mind, the intentions of my heart, the words I have uttered and the actions I have exhibited.
My toughest trial for this Ramadan was controlling my temper and my tongue.
I had felt sluggish at times, which was a given, but what surprised me the most was that at sporadic moments, I was easily irritable. One fine example was when I was taking care of my nieces who would go their own way and occupy themselves with their own activities. That was fine. What was not fine, at that time, was when they accidentally snapped my phone cable charger into two pieces.
You would think that the best way to handle this situation was to reprimand them, without needing to resort to anger and then drive to the nearest gadget store to purchase a replacement cable.
Disappointingly, my temper rose and I snapped at them and sent them out of my sight. My rage consumed me and it took me awhile to end the seething. After a while, I felt like the worst. Blowing my fuse towards 10-year-olds was the most unreasonable thing I had ever done during this Ramadan.
The words I had expressed among my peers have also been the roughest. I have always had a bad habit of exercising curse words to punctuate my sentences. Using profanity to emphasize story-telling was a signature style to converse. It was tiring, but not impossible to refrain myself from using such words. It shames to me to say that I would let one or two expletives slip out knowing fully well my intention to do so.
However, what’s possibly my biggest mistake this month was that I didn’t perform the tarawih prayers as much as I thought I would. In fact, I had no valid reason to skip them in the first place. It was all pure, unadulterated laziness.
I contemplate and mull things over as the sun sets, seeking for forgiveness for all the unsatisfactory things that I didn’t think I was capable of doing in such a blessed month. Praying that my fasting would at least be accepted.
Truly, it wasn’t the finest sensation in the world to be aware that I had done all these undesirable actions during Ramadan. To be aware of the fact that the shaitaans are shackled and the Jinn are chained and that logically, they would lack the influence over your behavior. The thought rams into your head and you begin to realize that it’s all you. You are this character. I am this character. I am this type of person. It’s a terrible reality to acknowledge, but needed for the sake of posterity.