iftar time machine
Ramadan iftar with my college best friends is a beautiful contradiction that I cherish. It is a tradition full of joy and deep connection, the kind of friendship that feels like coming home after a long journey. Since 2015, we’ve been breaking our fasts together, forging a bond that feels unshakeable. But as the years pass, this reunion double as a reality slap, reminding me just how far we’ve come and how quickly time has flown — that the days of carefree chatter are shifting.
Back when we were fresh-faced college kids, our iftar conversations were filled with silly crushes, classes we loved to hate, papers and the approaching deadlines, the latest gossip — all the gloriously silly dramas of young adulthood. Fast forward to this year, and the topics took a different turn: tutorial on how to count our taxes, hard-earned career milestones, living arrangement, detailed wedding plans, and even mortgage.
One by one, we’re hitting the big “adulting” markers.
Last year, the first bombshell dropped when two of them announced their engagement. We saw it coming but it was still surprising to hear. This year is an upgrade altogether. One friend just bought a car, another friend nervously shared that she’d hit her five-year mark at her job and reminded us that her daughter is 2 years-old already, and not only one but TWO wedding plannings are in full swing.
It’s a beautiful, bittersweet rush — acknowledging how much life has changed in the nine years since we met. We still have that iftar-turned-suhoor session; messy hair and bleary eyes as we laugh and talk until the first hints of dawn. Even amidst the inevitable of change, we still make time to bear witness to each other’s highs and lows, celebrating milestones big and small. These people know my deepest secrets, my greatest fears, and my wildest dreams. They know my history, my traumas, and heck — even their parents treat me like their own daughter.
Time slips through our fingers, doesn’t it? We were once a bunch of innocent, wide-eyed 17 years-old ordering the cheapest meal from warung nasi padang, fresh out of high school and unsure about the path ahead. Now, we’re mapping out our lives with a seriousness that surprises even ourselves.
Part of me will always cling to those early years, to the simpler times. But mostly, there’s an overwhelming sense of pride and gratitude. We’re growing and changing, but the heart of our friendship remains. My wish is simple: that they stay in my life forever.
