First iftar

My first iftar in my first Ramadan was in my first week of being a Muslim. Alhamdulilah. I was in Perth and had just sat done a presentation at Curtin in my final semester exams. Maghreb was around 8pm. I had not eaten or drank anything since the middle of the previous night, or so it seemed. It had been a mild 40 degrees...

I slumped out of the classroom into the corridor. The adhan was a couple of minutes away but my house (and my fridge) was a good 30 minute walk away.

As my course colleagues skipped away to their various domiciles, I almost tripped over Amar. My housemate Amar. Squatted on the floor by my class, he had gone to the college office and found out where I would be. Upon finding me he had seen out the last hour of his own fast in the corridor outside my presentation.

Upon seeing him, I feebly cheered, hoping I might be able to bum a ride home with him. He handed me a carrier bag filled with fruit, a bag of nuts, dates and some other items he'd gone and bought from the refectory.

As I stared at the food, he handed me a bottle of water, counted a few seconds out on his watch and told me to repeat a dua after him.

We sat in the corridor and feasted. It was a feast. I have never had fruit that tasted better nor water sweeter. There was very little talk. But the sense of brotherly love was palpable.

It was the first of many beautiful friendships I have formed and will doubtless be the last one I forget.