This week’s poem inspired by that beautiful moment of longing that comes at sunset every night during the holy Muslim month of Ramadan. The moment when millions wait in silence, in solidarity, in small and large groups, to break the fast after 17 hours without a sip of water.
Iftar
From overheated apartments walk through Ramadan dusk
After the rush, traffic slows to a trickle
Stragglers rushing to reach home.
Waiting for Magrib’s magic moment in every parking basement
Behind windows, at corners where rickshaw wallahs wait
At every building site, water bottles with caps unscrewed
Eyes watch hands mix puffed-rice, chickpeas, chilies
The sweet savory smell of Iftar dates, the ache of thirst.
Minutes tick, sun sinks, golden light in silent sky
Peace steels along the ever-crowded paths and parks.
Quiet stretches thirsty for that moment when longing
Calls across the city from a thousand minarets.
Fast is broken, the sweet first sip of water
Silence sighs relief.
Dhaka 2016
Well done Rilla, I loved it
Brilliant Rilla. You’re really present catching and sensing this particular moment so It’s like being there oneself.
Who are the siluets? I guess no 2 is Torben and no 7 is Else ?
This is very touching. It gives us non muslims a glance into the spirrit of ramadan.
Very nice.