Ramadhan: Reset, Renewal and Reform

I don’t recall the first time I fasted during Ramadhan, nor do I remember ever skipping a fast in this blessed month. What I do remember, however, is the sudden surge of people in our mosque as Ramadhan began. A young man would arrive half an hour before iftar, standing at the mosque’s entrance with a bag full of dates, handing them out to everyone entering. Inside, piping hot phirni was served in porcelain cups, and devotees would relish it, licking the cups clean. A basil-seeded drink was gulped down in one go, while children scooped out the last bits of coconut shavings from their glasses, munching on them even during prayers.

Childhood allowed such liberties, but as we grew older, the elderly would scold us for running and playing in the mosque. Rows of kids praying shoulder to shoulder often erupted in laughter. Life was simpler then—no mobile phones or internet to distract us. The essence of Ramadhan lingered long after Eid.

But times changed. The world became a global village, and technology took over. Mobile phones entered our bedrooms, consuming much of our time. Now, during Ramadhan, Islamic videos and reels flood social media, exposing us to traditions from Muslim countries worldwide. We’ve started emulating their practices, prioritizing elaborate iftar spreads over simplicity. In mosques, white sheets are laid out, adorned with bowls of sliced fruits, Ruh Afza, and disposable packets of custard sprinkled with dry fruits. Devotees are given ample time to finish this lavish menu before Maghrib prayers.

While our iftar tables have grown richer, some issues remain unchanged. Perhaps we’ve grown indifferent, or we now view them through a “cost-benefit” lens. Whatever the reason, it’s time to address them openly.

Pay decent salary to Imams

In Islamic tradition, the molvi (imam) holds a revered position. He leads prayers, delivers sermons, and is often embraced warmly by congregants. Inviting him for tea or a meal is considered a blessed act. Yet, when it comes to increasing his salary, the mood shifts.

Many imams earn as little as 10,000 rupees a month, a sum insufficient to meet basic needs. While people complain about struggling with 50,000 rupees, they expect imams to manage with far less. Most imams come from humble backgrounds, spending years in seminaries to earn their degrees. Yet, their struggles are overlooked when it comes to fair compensation.

An imam’s life is restricted. He cannot indulge in leisure activities, take his family on trips, or enjoy luxuries. Owning a car or living comfortably is often met with scepticism. Fixing his salary above 10,000 rupees invites criticism, and anything beyond 20,000 is seen as a dream. While we wear our religion proudly, our actions often fall short. As Iqbal said, “Hazar Khouf ho laikin zubaan ho dil ki rafeeq, Yehee raha hai azal se qalandaru ka tareeq” (Let the tongue be the heart’s companion, for this has always been the way of the wise). It’s time to walk the talk and ensure our imams live with dignity.

Revive Community Help

Baitul Maal, an Islamic welfare system, was established during the caliphate of Umar-ibn- Khattab (R.A). It served as a lifeline for the poor, providing hope and support to orphans, widows, and the needy. Today, this institution lies forgotten.

We’ve experimented with initiatives like the ‘Wall of Kindness,’ but such efforts lack sustainability. Meanwhile, beggars line mosque gates, hospitals, and public transport, pleading for help. While some may exploit this, painting everyone with the same brush is unjust. The need for Baitul Maal was evident during the COVID-19 pandemic, when many families went hungry. Establishing Baitul Maal at the village or town level could help distinguish genuine cases from frauds. Reviving this institution would not only aid the needy but also strengthen our community.

 Pray in Privacy, say no to loudspeakers

Loudspeakers have become a contentious issue. While the call to prayer is essential, their excessive use disrupts daily life. Patients and students suffer as loudspeakers blare at odd hours. During Ramadhan, the problem worsens, with pre-dawn recitations and announcements disturbing those trying to rest.

Some argue that loudspeakers aid spiritual healing, but this belief lacks practicality. Renowned scholars have even criticized the excessive noise, yet the trend persists. Our obsession with loudspeakers has turned them into a nuisance, encroaching on the prayers of women and the peace of others.

With smartphones widely available, there’s no need for loudspeakers to announce suhoor or broadcast lengthy recitations. A simple, soft call for Tahajjud prayers would suffice. Similarly, vegetable vendors blaring pre-recorded messages add to the noise pollution, making it harder for fasting individuals to rest.

Outro

Ramadhan is a time for reflection and renewal. We should be mindful of our actions. While we’ve embraced modernity, we must not lose sight of our core values.