10 Sep
Many various unrelated thoughts passed through my mind, sitting on a wooden stool in a generous kitchen with the cold breeze as my companion. Though it was cold for me, I didn’t move to close the window instead I just sat there sipping my Suklaa with maito, the third consecutive day I was having it. No complaints, just appreciative I had food at all.

Reflecting bitterly of the past Ramadhans back home where hot delicious food was not just served but fed. How true it is, we don’t appreciate what we have till we lose it. Reminisce is all I have the ability to do.

Having to experiment daily for my own consumption has become a daily chore but one I really enjoy. No one really bothers if the kitchen is oily or dirty because it is left mostly as it is after one has benefitted from it. The coco pops will nag at me to sweep it away or it will remain there for the rest of the time I am here. So it suits me well enough here being a tad ‘cleaner’ than my house companions who are Alhamdulilah otherwise.

The long hours of resistance seem to me as if I was born here, fasted for a lifetime. Alhamdulilah. That is the God’s mercy on me! Amazing I should think so. It is around a few hours more than usual indeed. An interesting observation of the fast changing time of sahr and iftar as they move closer together made me realize the gift I got of having to experience it in the blissful month of Ramadhan.

Contrary to common belief that the inhabitants of the colder climate spend most of their time sleeping, I haven’t slept in the afternoon even once so far. My dear mother seem to belief I am always about to sleep during our conversations which occurs in the early evenings. I just look lazy I think.

Doodles decorate certain corners of my notes, ugly ones because I have no such artistic gift. Are you sure three hours of extremely slow and monotonous lectures where the old-fashioned OHP is still being used as a method of delivery is enjoying myself? Please think again. This ordeal continues for 2 periods and occurs twice a week and I am not done yet; there are at least 2 other similar method of delivery. I couldn’t take it anymore and refused to continue against my will to urge my hand to work.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: