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Today started of well. I woke up before my alarm, showered, read Qur’an, read my book, planned on getting to work for the PGCE. But then I find out that because dad bought an expensive fruit, Jackfruit for £24, mum had invited my siblings and their families over for iftaar.

Jackfruit (khatol in Bangla) is a very large and a seasonal summer fruit. It is know for its size, strange smell and texture:

This is what the bad boy looks like outside...

This is what the bad boy looks like outside…

...and this is the inside

…and this is the inside

This is another Bangali related thing which people find strange. It is indeed a fruit that emits the strangest pong, but I’ve grown up eating it, and therefore, like it!

She's gona get me :0

That grey blur on the right side is mum…coming for me :0

So thanks to dad spending more money than he had in his pocket, we had to get rid of the fruit because it was massive. And so the family were gathered to help us out. Now, mum gets really stressed when she has people coming over. She becomes irritable and snaps at you a lot. So naturally everything I did was wrong or not good enough and I would simply raise my hands in surrender and walk away. Its always the best thing to do.

You see this picture? It’s me trying to run away from mum! And no she wasn’t going to beat me (I wouldn’t put it past her though!). I was trying to get a shot of the army of kids at the table having their dinner but mum came towards me in such haste, I instinctively went into fight or flight. I naturally flight; I moved out of mum’s way and as a result, the shot came out blurred *weeps*

Fear of death or casualty by the hands of dear of mum aside, it was a very busy evening. The men sat in the living room and they had their table set up for them with all the food prepared nicely. Whilst the women’s table was messy and lacked the presentation that it should have had.

Day 14 - the mens table

Men’s table

And once again, the men were moaning about not having enough meat to eat and in the end had 2 helpings whilst we women managed with half a bowl between 7 people. With a shiver, this takes me back to my Ramadan Diaries of 2011; the men and their carnivorous appetites are what made me lose my rag that Ramadan. A lot!

My iiftaar

My iiftaar

Anyways, somehow I ended up eating a lot (I did chow down on a lot of fruit after my meal) and I was so full, I was squirming in pain. It was so bad, my stomach felt hard for a minimum of 3 hours after. My belly looked like it would burst and I felt as big as my 3 month pregnant sister of twins, and she’s packing more than me!!!

It really is ludicrous, but there you have it. I was so full I couldn’t even drink because it made me more full. I had to skip my workout because I could barely stand, let alone do squats and star jumps *sigh*

A hadith (saying of Muhammed PBUH) is to have 1/3 food, 1/3 water and keep the other 1/3 of your stomach empty for air. But I clearly had more solids in my thirds than anything and for that reason I suffered. It really is so important we don’t overeat. I felt very sluggish and tired after eating so much and that was the price I had to pay. This is the firs time I’ve slipped up, and I won’t let it happen again. Even if an iftaar table is filled with all my favourite food, I won’t give in. I prefer being able to bend over and breath than looking down and seeing I have an ‘iftaar belly’ that just won’t disappear. Whether it was the sticky rice or jackfruit, I won’t be letting myself get in that state again #FIGHTFOODOVERLOAD

baby fist meme - oh yeah