Buka Puasa…
5:30pm
Segelas kolak pisang, teh manis hangat, air mineral dalam kemasan. Sepiring nasi putih, lengkap dengan lauk pauk , sepiring kecil kacang goreng rasa, pisang goreng atau tape goreng. Sepotong pisang ambon dan sebutir jeruk pontianak.
And when you’re having an international feast, just slightly change the menu, and voila! It’s your “Buka Puasa Bersama” menu…
“Beduknya jam berapa sih?”
“Mas, Mas, udah Adzan belum ya?”
“Permisi Mbak, sekarang jam berapa ya?”
All of those questions will pop up during the hour.
A friend of mine commented on this weird observation. “Kenapa segitunya amat sih?”
Puasa Ramadhan is one of the hardest time in our year. They say the satans are chained up so that we, Muslims can focus on our “Ibadah”.
But frankly, during Ramadhan, it’s actually the hardest time we hold ourselves from the any rage. It’s almost as if the satans hide in our most inner self, waking all the evils with the red code: Hunger.
This morning I saw 2 motorcyclists almost chewed each other up in traffic because one of them bumped the other in the rear area. The same incident would have probably been shrugged off under normal circumstances. But it’s Ramadhan, the fasting season. When the stomach is empty, the head and the heart are too.
I would say personally that holding myself against hunger is easy. But to extend that to holding myself against all other “hawa nafsu”, be it “passion for sexual activities” or “rage” is a totally different ball game.
Now it’s inching forward towards bedug Maghrib. Do we Muslims have some severe physical condition, a severe hypoglycemia for instance, to force us to “eat our heart out” the minute we hear Adzan Maghrib; or do we simply justify ourselves that it’s the evil in our stomach who demands meals at once?
Malls are filled with people breaking their fast.
5.50pm
Everyone glances at their watches, hoping the time would pass sooner. Parking spaces are just as packed as the fast food restaurant.
At adzan maghrib, befall silence. Only clanking of spoons and forks to the glass or ceramic plates, the clinking of glasses we hear. No one is still waiting for their dinner. Every one has been served. And I’ll leave you 2 guesses. What is the least crowded place at exactly bedug maghrib time? Yes. The Mushalla (praying rooms).
Call me cynical, but I help contribute.
Yes, I’m hypoglycemic. When I’m hungry, I’m cranky.
Now who’s with me?
Segelas kolak pisang, teh manis hangat, air mineral dalam kemasan. Sepiring nasi putih, lengkap dengan lauk pauk , sepiring kecil kacang goreng rasa, pisang goreng atau tape goreng. Sepotong pisang ambon dan sebutir jeruk pontianak.
And when you’re having an international feast, just slightly change the menu, and voila! It’s your “Buka Puasa Bersama” menu…
“Beduknya jam berapa sih?”
“Mas, Mas, udah Adzan belum ya?”
“Permisi Mbak, sekarang jam berapa ya?”
All of those questions will pop up during the hour.
A friend of mine commented on this weird observation. “Kenapa segitunya amat sih?”
Puasa Ramadhan is one of the hardest time in our year. They say the satans are chained up so that we, Muslims can focus on our “Ibadah”.
But frankly, during Ramadhan, it’s actually the hardest time we hold ourselves from the any rage. It’s almost as if the satans hide in our most inner self, waking all the evils with the red code: Hunger.
This morning I saw 2 motorcyclists almost chewed each other up in traffic because one of them bumped the other in the rear area. The same incident would have probably been shrugged off under normal circumstances. But it’s Ramadhan, the fasting season. When the stomach is empty, the head and the heart are too.
I would say personally that holding myself against hunger is easy. But to extend that to holding myself against all other “hawa nafsu”, be it “passion for sexual activities” or “rage” is a totally different ball game.
Now it’s inching forward towards bedug Maghrib. Do we Muslims have some severe physical condition, a severe hypoglycemia for instance, to force us to “eat our heart out” the minute we hear Adzan Maghrib; or do we simply justify ourselves that it’s the evil in our stomach who demands meals at once?
Malls are filled with people breaking their fast.
5.50pm
Everyone glances at their watches, hoping the time would pass sooner. Parking spaces are just as packed as the fast food restaurant.
At adzan maghrib, befall silence. Only clanking of spoons and forks to the glass or ceramic plates, the clinking of glasses we hear. No one is still waiting for their dinner. Every one has been served. And I’ll leave you 2 guesses. What is the least crowded place at exactly bedug maghrib time? Yes. The Mushalla (praying rooms).
Call me cynical, but I help contribute.
Yes, I’m hypoglycemic. When I’m hungry, I’m cranky.
Now who’s with me?
posted by meimeiletti at 1:37 AM
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