#sehri

The Messenger of Allah said:

"The people will remain well as long as they hasten the opening of the fast."

(Bukhārī)

It is from the sunnah of our beloved to eat iftär early and open the fast with dates.

May Allah Destroy Isr*al and help the people of Palestine.

عَنْ أَنَسٍ قَالَ: قَالَ رَسُولُ اللَّهِ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ: «تَسَحَّرُوا فَإِنَّ فِي السَّحُورِ بركَة» مُتَّفق عَلَيْهِ  Anas reported God's messenger as saying, “Take a meal a little before dawn, for there is a blessing in taking a meal at that time.” (Bukhari and Muslim.)

Atmospheres that put me into a state of muted restlessness:

The darkness after sundown. It reminds me of goodbyes. Anxiety peaks have been linked to childhood experiences, ie you get anxious at the time of day during which you faced past trauma. Strangely, I never faced anything in evenings—Yet as far back in my memories as I can go, whenever the sky has gone cool blue-gray after dusk, my mind has automatically spiraled down, down, down. It startles me when it hits, but I've always just ... shaken it off and distracted myself.

Vehicle sounds in the quiet of the night. Tires on asphalt. Horns. Screeching brakes. They take me back to my constant paranoia while traveling. I sleep fitfully on night buses, international flights, and inter-city car rides. I'm afraid if I close my eyes, I may not open them again. For some reason, I find that more scary than being in a crash while wide awake.

Evening musical performances. A combination of introvert fatigue and the fear (fed by social anxiety) of losing something I've never been able to fully grasp: connection. Moments, people, memories. In a group of friends, I survive through being sheltered by the mother hen. I am never the glue that sticks the rest together, maybe because I have barely learned to hold myself together yet. Someday, someday.

Being up and about before the break of dawn. In airports, buses and train stations; at Sehri time during Ramadan; while grabbing a midnight snack from the kitchen in our house in Sylhet, with my mom who’s also unable to sleep. Catching a movie airing on TV. Dragging my blanket-burritoed self back to bed before I accidentally doze off in the sofa where mosquitoes will happily feast on my skin. There’s something otherworldly about all that hustle and bustle cutting through the stillness of the night, through the tired hum of my sleepy thoughts. But unlike the others on this list, I do not hate the feeling.