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

Invest in Yourself

Sixteen, superb and smiling! (It's easy to come up with alliteration with the letter "s". I was really stuck on how to describe myself when I turned eleven.) Inaya Moin, ready for duty!
We're a few fasts into Ramadan and I am super stoked. I've taken a leaf out of Leena's book and started waking up a full five minutes earlier than I usually do. Don't laugh. It makes a world of difference. I can get in a complete ten bites more than I could before.
Oh, what's that? My little problem? Well, it's just that, ah, my Ramadan Journal is not here yet! I am totally not going to use last year's all over again, though it is pretty fun to go through. There's this super cool awesome fabulous artist and calligrapher Zohayma Montaner who makes these journals. They're filled with art, motivational reads and useful charts. I'll show you what it's like as soon as it gets here. I really can't wait.
Can you believe our seniors got free from their O Level exams on 12 June? That barely leaves any party time between then and Ramadan. Not to say that you can't party in Ramadan--it's a food fiesta here in Pakistan, after all. I shouldn't really say "seniors", because after passing our school exams in May, we are the senior most class of the school now. We just haven't started classes yet, because it's summer break. So, that makes me an eleventh grader, right? Right? Or am I in limbo between tenth and eleventh grade? I'm not going to bother about that. It's Ramadan. I can't think too much.
Leena always bashes me for saying stuff like that. She says our functionality really isn't impacted much by fasting, and we shouldn't tone down our activities because of that. I don't know, maybe it's psychological, but I really can't do as much in Ramadan as I can otherwise. Leena says that's because I stuff myself all night and pass out after the dawn prayer. Leena should start a talk show called "Leena says" because she's saying things all the time! Sheesh!
Here's what a typical afternoon of fasting looks like:
Papa comes home from work. "I'm home!" he announces cheerfully to the family. Mama goes to greet him. If Leena is around, she goes to greet him as well. I shoot him a greeting from where I'm sitting. Hey, if Jasir is excused from doing anything when he fasts, then I get some leeway as well, right?
Wrong.
"Get up and greet Papa," Mama says.
"Come on, Inaya," adds Leena. Big shot big sister in action, huh.
"OK, OK, don't die," I snap irritably, putting the laptop to one side and getting up. "Oh, Papa, how nice to see you! I hope you had a nice day of sitting in the air conditioning!"
"Nice to see--Inaya!" Papa makes a face at me. He doesn't like the kids equating his job to "sitting in the air conditioning".
"Oh no," Leena says, turning to me. "You know he spins the office chair around as well. How could you miss that?"
Papa laughs. A grimace for my comment, a laugh for Leena's. Go figure!
"Let me bring you a glass of wa--oh!" Leena clasps both hands to her mouth, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry!"
"It's fine, dear," Papa says, moving past her in the direction of the master bedroom. "I'll take a rain check for that glass of water. You can give it to me at fast-breaking time." He winks at her.
"OK," Leena says, still looking a bit flustered at almost offering water to a fasting person.
"It happens," I tell her.
"Oh, be quiet," Leena says, shaking her head and going towards her room.
"Leenaya! Eena!" Mama calls from the kitchen, where she had hastened into after welcoming Papa.
"It's Leena--Inaya," I correct her.
"My girls!" Mama comes out of the kitchen holding a tray laden with fruits.
"Oh no," I say.
"Oh yes," Mama says. "Time to make fruit salad!"
Leena makes a face that is halfway between a smile and a grimace. Eventually the forced smile pushes through. Even perfect big sis Leena gets tired of cutting fruit during Ramadan! She holds out her hands to accept the tray.
"Now, help your big sister with the fruit," Mama says, going back into the kitchen.
"But fast-breaking time is still so far away!" I whine. "You know Papa gets off early in Ramadan."
"We have to give the fruit salad time to chill in the refrigerator," Leena reminds me. She is already sitting down, the knife flashing in her hand as she expertly peels and dices apples.
I sit down and reach for the banana, by far the easiest fruit to cut. Leena grins at me but says nothing.
I cut the bananas and escape with my laptop into my room. I know it's only a matter of time before a family member barges in, so I have to be quick. Leena gets privacy because she's hit the big one-eight in age. Jasir, at the lowly one-three, is still not disturbed because he spends so much time sleeping, and because he does not have any gadgets of his own, everybody assumes that he can't get into any mischief. Me? One-six and that's also the number of times my family members come into my room when I'm sitting at my desk with my laptop with the door closed. Sigh.
I put a Nouman Ali Khan reminder on and open Facebook alongside. About two minutes into the reminder, my mind has disconnected and I barely grasp what he's saying, so I decide to increase the volume of the clip. Cue entry number one, Mama with the chopping board and a few potatoes.
"Inaya." She puts it on my desk.
"Mama!" I jump up. "Don't put that on my desk! I'll go do it in the living room!"
"Good girl," Mama says. She still doesn't remove the offending object from my desk. I snatch up the things and shuffle into the living room, where Leena is finishing up with the fruit salad.
"Why do we have to eat so much in Ramadan," I complain to no one in particular, sitting down with the chopping board and beginning to peel potato number one.
"Say that again at fast-breaking time, when you kids can't have enough to stuff yourselves with," Mama's voice comes from the kitchen.
"I don't eat so much in Ramadan," Leena interjects.
"That's because you want to lose weight," I tease her. She gives me a look before picking up the fruit chaat and taking it into the kitchen, leaving me alone with the potatoes.
"What is that sound!" Papa's voice, sounding half-asleep, comes from the master bedroom, where he is taking some well-earned shuteye.
"Er," is all I have to say.
"It's your laptop!" Leena and Mama exclaim together.
"Oops!" I rush into my room to turn it off. I can't wait for my journal to come. Then I won't have to depend on my laptop for reminders that I half-listen to.
I know, I know, I should fully listen to them, but then my mind wanders and, hey, potato!
***
Video:
Invest in Yourself | Nouman Ali Khan | illustrated

Dear readers, did you like this chapter? How is your Ramadan going? Do you have a message for Inaya, or any of the other characters? In case you're interested, I have attached the illustrated reminder Inaya was half-listening to, to this chapter. She really should have listened to it properly, don't you think?
If you liked the chapter, please vote!