The strange thing is, even though I am home all day, everyday, and focusing on this important month, I rarely see people. My house isn’t that big but somehow I’m lucky if I see someone for more than 10 mins. Everyone is so busy with work/studies or simply with worship. So it actually means there isn’t as much conversation at home. Now don’t get me wrong, not that many Ramadans ago we used to all sit and talk in the evenings about many things, but in the end somehow they would lead to arguments when someone would become passionate about something. So we stopped our evening gatherings, especially in Ramadan, and it’s been this way ever since.
But just by chance, a smile and the nod of a head persuaded me to spend a bit of time catching up with my brother. We ended up talking about all sorts of things for ages, and within that time I asked him:
Me: So why did you stop going to the centre to pray taraweeh?
(we don’t have a masjid in our area so there’s a centre booked out for prayer about 0.9 miles away)
Brother: Argh I’ve had too many bad experiences there to go any more!
Me: Bad?! What do you mean?
Brother: This happened 3 times in one night yeah?!
Brother: I was praying and the person next to me burped, with his mouth open. And do you know what I smelt? CHICKPEAS!!!
[We both burst out laughing]
Me: But still, it was just-
Brother: No. Hear me out. So after I finished I went to another row further ahead. Then the guy in front of me burped out loud. And I could still smell the chickpea baji breath, even though I was behind him! It was THAT strong!
Me: [sides splitting from laughing]
Brother: But that bloody didn’t end there! The man next to me did it too! And all I could smell was chickpea!!! I tried hard not to sneeze. You know how sensitive my nose is
In short, the lack of manners in salah and in other everyday life put my brother off going. Furthermore, there is this need to finish praying before they are kicked out of the centre, so the prayer is usually quickly carried out and finished. Sadly,the latter cannot be changed, but the former is a major concern. Etiquette in prayer is usually forgotten. Burping is one of many; fiddling with mobile phones, looking around, speeding in prayer, whispering so loudly that the person next to you cannot concentrate, fidgeting, taking the feet-to-feet so seriously that you end up playing footsie…and it goes on.
So it’s a shame this happens, even after all the khutbahs I’m sure the imam has given on manners at least 5 times in a year!
Moving on from the terrible story, I made a dessert I have been wanting to make for the longest time. But because of dad’s marathon of having mountain high plates of pakura, my dish was delayed:
The recipe and ingredients can be found in a separate post by clicking here!