etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

ramadan at harvard is very different than it was back home.

fasting was a much more intimate affair then. ours being one of just a handful of muslim families in the area, the four of us were normally the extent of each other’s company during the month, in the peak hours of the morning and right after sundown. the food was cooked just then, and every dinner was preceding by the traditionally iftaari of fried pakooras, dates, and rooafzaa, the desi equivalent of fruit punch. we said a short prayer out loud before we broke our fast, usually recited by one of us (either myself or my younger brother) to make sure that the tradition of the short prayer, like all other traditions that made us more than just “regular” american, would be passed down intact. our jamaa’, our congregation, was, on most week nights, just us.

ramadan at harvard, in a packed ticknor lounge at sundown, is very different. in many ways, we all still try to reach out and share that familial bond, that intimacy, but the catered meal and the scattered conversations deliver a different effect, not better or worse, but different.

two things, though, really remind me of home or, perhaps more accurately, deliver that sense of family.

the first is our tradition of nasihaa, a short three to five minute reflection–literally, advice–on the month, delivered by a relatively random member of the community each night after prayers. these reflections always spark some thought, some dialogue within the community or within the individual. they are often common insights or token bits of wisdom poignantly delivered. what is neat about the tradition at harvard is that the process of selecting/volunteering individuals to share nasihaa is entirely egalitarian. sometimes we hear from freshman and at others from an older graduate student. the depth and degree of what is being said, naturally, is often shifting, but always, i find something to take away.

tonight, as i was asking around to see who wanted to share this coming week, i was met with a lot of humility, a trait that i feel we find in the best of our community, something i continue to strive towards (not always successfully). the humility was often articulated, as “we would rather someone wiser, more knowledgable, pious…share nasihaa.” and i sympathized. i had no answer for that request. certainly, sharing advice with a group of peers could be perceived as a sign of distinction and seeking such distinction would not be fitting of a good muslim, one a humble muslim.

i feel like i found an answer in plato’s republic tonight:

a good nasihaa ought to be presented much in the way socrates shared his wisdom, or the beginnings of wisdom–in the form of a question. i guess i’m moving to a more general point, but one i feel i should still continue and punctuate.

often times, muslims hesitate to give another muslim advice. it’s not even a muslim thing. i often find myself wanting to but hesitant to share advice with a friend. as a peer, it seems weird to assert a position of dominance or greater wisdom by sharing advice, even when you’re trying to be genuinely helpful.

but what if we only asked questions and let our friends come to their own conclusions? if what we want to share is actually “true,” the truth, then our friends will likely discover it themselves if asked the right questions. even better: what if we shared questions as a group and allowed each other to safely share advice in a circle? we would not be assuming any sort of mastery, simply nudging reflection in one another, as a community of seekers.

that, i feel, is how a nasihaa, or any advice for that matter, ought to be framed, more socratic than the normal tendency is perhaps: a question, a gentle prod to help another tease out their own truth. in matters of faith especially, we at this age find ourselves sensitive, feeling like we’re often being “judged” and rarely being questioned. collectively, i feel we would be a lot wiser, and likely much more pious, if we just asked more questions of each other, pushed the envelope a little.

returning to “sense of family” point: nasihaas make me feel at home because around the dinner table, we were always peers sharing candid reflections and little bits of knowledge. we were always peers asking questions, inspiring wisdom in one another.

—

one of the brothers who has been coming to “ticknor at sundown” since i was a freshman has a little daughter, an angel just a few months over two years old. my first ramadan at harvard, sakina was a newborn, drooling in her daddy’s lap, trying hard to tune out the many voices surrounding her and likely basking in the glory of the many doting undergrads adoring her wonderful smile. by my second ramadan, she had started to crawl around and become quite the islamic society socialite. this year, the young lady is finally a walking toddler, running around ticknor lounge.

it’s exciting to see sakina grow up, right before our own eyes. i feel like at some level, sakina is now, two years later, part of the family. and i part of hers.