2017: Day 1

Haiku Style

Whatever slows your
pace, thank it. Thank it for new
nerves grown in the still.

— Naazneen Diwan

Saturday, May 27, 2017, 6:48 p.m.

How difficult it is to hold this hunger,
and suddenly, how easy.

How difficult it is to hold my anger,

and still difficult.

It snaps, brusque, like the cold
stone slab of pita bread I find in the refrigerator,
probably from two weeks ago.

I stand in the kitchen. The mess beyond the door
regards me sleepily, knowing
it is in control. I try to move my frustration
out of my body, mind.
I stand in the middle of the grass outside.
I take my sandals off and take a few steps. Stop,
dig my toes in, look at my feet.
The green blades remind that
they are holding me. Soft.
I look up and can actually see the sky.
It yawns, and wanes.

I wait for a breeze.
The sky yawns again.

— Nadia Ahmad

Ramadan Day 1:

Day one
Alarms go off and
My body aches too much to wake
No suhoor
Empty stomach
I last half the day
Before I break.

I remind myself
Allah knows
Intention counts
Be kind to yourself

When my mother calls and asks
What I had for iftar
How did I prepare,
I stumble over my words
Telling her I had leftover biryani
(That I actually had for lunch)
I was too tired to make iftar
I skipped dinner as atonement
(For my failed attempt)
Had a snack before bed and told myself
Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

— YS