Tricky Teen Girl: A Whisper of Peace [Ramadan Story]

Change your Nafs, change the world

I lie curled up on my bed, tears running down my face. On one side, Leena holds my hand. On the other side, Mama sits with her hand on my shoulder.
"I should have known," I gulp dramatically. "I always get the worst luck!"
"No, don't say that," Leena says soothingly.
"And besides, you weren't really conquering the world this Ramadan, either," Mama adds in what she thinks is a helpful tone.
"What do you mean?" I gasp. "I wasn't going full speed ahead, but I wasn't totally sitting still, either. I was doing the best I could. And now, I'm off fasting until the end of Ramadan. I'm going to miss all the remaining odd nights. It's so discouraging!"
"You aren't going to miss them, Inaya," Leena says. "You will get them as much as any other Muslim who lives to see Ramadan. You'll just be a bit...restricted."
"Restrictions? What restrictions are you talking about?" Jasir appears in the doorway. "I'd love to know who else gets restricted besides me in this house!"
"Jasir!" Mama and Leena say simultaneously. "Girl talk!"
"Sorry!" Jasir runs away as fast as he can. He knows that when we say "girl talk", we're serious, and he has to make himself scarce.
"I meant," Leena goes on, "that you'll be restricted in terms of energy and Quran reading. Apart from that, you can worship as much as you like."
"I can't pray Salah, Leena." I glare at her, wiping the tears off my face harshly.
"It's not like you were praying all night long, anyway," Mama says. "You fell asleep the first night."
"Mama! You're not helping." I sniff.
"OK, OK, don't cry," Mama says. "I'll bring you some ice cream, how's about that?"
"Jasir will see me." I shudder.
"Oh, I'll deal with Jasir," Mama says, getting up. Jasir still doesn't know that the females in the house have days off from praying Salah and fasting every month, so we have to be sneaky about it.
"Who's dealing with Jasir about what?" Papa appears in the doorway.
"GIRL TALK!" all three of us exclaim. Papa's eyes widen, then he makes a strange face and hurries away as fast as possible. Mama leaves to get me ice cream. That leaves a sympathetic Leena and still-distraught me.
"Inaya." Leena squeezes my hand.
"Leena, you're not missing a single fast this month, so forgive me if I hate you."
Leena laughs. "You don't hate me. You're just a bit 'halal-jealous'."
I pull my hand out of her hand and turn my face away from her.
"It just makes things so complicated," I moan.
"It's all in your head," Leena says. Then, after a look from me, she adds, "I mean, the challenge is real, but the discouragement is all from your own thoughts. You just have to be creative. Look, it's like playing a game on hard mode."
"Impossible mode, rather."
"Not really. What I mean is that the obstacles are more difficult to pass, but in the scoring system of this life, you get more merit for trying against a harder hurdle."
"Those are all nice words, but I won't be able to finish reading the Quran." I frown.
"You can listen to the rest of it," Leena says. "You can do remembrance of Allah (zikr), you can listen to the Quranic explanation and the life of the Prophet (peace be upon him) audios, you can recite what Quran you know by heart, you can-"
"That's a lot of 'cans'." I raise my eyebrows.
"Success comes in cans." Leena smiles at me.
"All I feel like doing is sleeping and dozing and sleeping again." I yawn. Mama comes in with a bowl of ice cream. I sit up straight and get the bowl from her. Mama sits down and brushes her hand over my head fondly.
"Even the sleeping of a fasting person is rewarded by Allah," she says kindly.
Leena and I both facepalm.
"That's the point--I'm not fasting!" I purse my lips.
"Oh." Mama gives me a sheepish look. "Leena is much better at this. I'll leave you to it, OK, Leena?"
"Sure, Mama," Leena says. Mama leaves.
"About feeling," she says. "You're not supposed to worship only when you feel like it. That is the whole point. When you worship even when you don't feel like it, and especially when the worship doesn't produce the nice, happy feelings you want, it counts with Allah and decreases the hold of your Nafs (self) on you."
"I thought feeling the right feelings during worship was important." I frown.
"That isn't your goal, though. Your goal is to submit yourself to Allah, not to gain good feelings."
"Submission can be a feeling." I lick the ice cream spoon thoughtfully. Leena's gaze lingers on the ice cream, then she looks away.
"Your turn to be halal-jealous." I tease her.
"Dream on." Leena nudges me playfully. I can tell she is cheered up by me cheering up.
After Leena sneaks the empty ice cream bowl into the kitchen, I lie down and close my eyes. It's not my tools or family members who are going to help me out of this. This is just about me, between me and Allah, but then again, isn't everything between just Allah and me in the end?
***
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