Ramadan commenced with a dinner in Downtown Palo Alto. Since the Islamic calendar follows the lunar calendar, Ramadan began at sunset on the night of Feb. 28 before the first fast the next day. To celebrate, I joined friends for our usual “dessert runs.” Outside the ice cream shop Scoop Microcreamery, we huddled around a circular table, sharing Ramadan goals, life updates and laughter.
Even though I see my friends often, gathering with fellow Muslims during Ramadan feels different. It brings a unique sense of kinship and solidarity that I find nowhere else.
While the night ended late, I knew the next day, March 1, would bring a challenge I hadn’t faced all year: the first fast. Many say it’s the hardest, but I disagree. The jitters of Ramadan make me excited. Still, I underestimated my ability to wake up at 4:45 a.m. and the morning queasiness shocked me as I struggled to drink water and eat during suhoor, the morning meal before the fast. Even though waking up that early feels almost unbearable, there’s a quiet peace in the stillness of the morning that makes it worth it. After praying Fajr, the sunrise salah or prayer, I went back to sleep.
I made it through the day with ease, and the day ended peacefully. I enjoyed iftar, the evening meal to break a fast, devouring three bowls of spaghetti and began my journey to memorize new Quranic verses.
Sunday was a mix of preparation and family time. After spending the morning with my mom and sister, we drove to San Ramon for a family iftar. The quick stop at Trader Joe’s was a rookie mistake. Every aisle tempted me, and walking past the dessert aisle was a silent struggle. In an oddly comforting way, Ramadan reminds me that everyone’s struggles are not always surface level. Just like me passing by aisle after aisle of food, everyone faces uncomfortable challenges each day, yet Islam reminds to act with sympathy and generosity in everyday interactions.
That night, I prayed Maghrib, the salah or prayer at sunset, with my family at the San Ramon Valley Islamic Center (SRVIC) and capped off the evening with a froyo run—a sweet ending to the day.
I anticipated one of the most challenging fasts of the month as March 3 approached, marking my first full day of fasting at school. As hungry as I was in the afternoon, I was fulfilled from just a couple bites of food at iftar time. It reminded me that the real battle is internal and that you are more fulfilled than you believe.
The week progressed, and I focused on getting through the school week. As Friday approached, life blossomed with iftar parties and late-night adventures. One of the best perks of being a teenage driver during Ramadan is the freedom to stay out late and experience the night with friends.
From iftar parties, family gatherings, late night praying taraweeh (night prayer) at the mosque, midnight excursions to Arab coffee-houses and 5:00 a.m. suhoor runs at Tandoori Pizza in Sunnyvale, Ramadan nights feel endless. These moments, filled with laughter and connection, captured the joyful spirit of strengthening relationships during Ramadan.
It seems as though everyone wants to host an iftar dinner during Ramadan. The following weeks were filled with even more iftar parties that ended in late-night outings to Qamaria Coffee in Fremont or Levant Dessert in Menlo Park, where we shared Dubai chocolate strawberries, tiramisu, and iced coffee.
After an iftar dinner at my friend’s house, I attended Suhoor Fest hosted by MCA. Suhoor Fest is a late-night community event bringing Muslijms together through food trucks, booths, khateras (religious talks), prayers and more. It’s a mix of worship and social gathering, hosting over 6,000 attendees in the Bay Area per night. Seeing hundreds of people come together at such an inordinate time of day, connected by faith, reminded me of the strength in community.
Having the support of a Muslim community uplifts my spirits during the month and makes me feel less alone, especially during a month that is geared towards spiritual self-reflection and betterment.
Looking forward to Eid al-Fitr, a day of celebration at the end of Ramadan to commemorate the month, I considered what I was going to wear. Typically, Muslims wear new fancy outfits, pray together in the thousands, and attend party after party, so I wanted to perfect my outfit early on.
As Eid approached, Muslims around the world began observing the final ten nights of Ramadan. These nights are considered the most sacred of the year, as one of them holds Laylat al-Qadr, the Night of Power, a night believed to bring forgiveness and blessings. Muslims donate Zakat or obligatory charity, pray throughout the night and devote themselves to deep worship.
On the 27th and 29th nights, I visited the mosque, squeezing into a single aisle. Like many other religions, Muslims pray in rows, shoulder to shoulder. MCA became so packed on the 29th night that my friend’s dad had to pray outside.
As I stood, sandwiched between strangers, for nearly an hour and prayed 20 rakats (sequences) of taraweeh and qiyam, night-time prayers, I didn’t feel alone. Rather, I felt empowered by the sheer number of people praying together. Surrounded by hundreds in collective prayer, the moment felt surreal.
Praying in my bedroom before bed feels intimate. Praying with thousands feels powerful.
A South Asian tradition called Chaand Raat marks the night before Eid, when families gather to spot the crescent moon and prematurely celebrate the festivities of Eid as women decorate their hands with mehndi (henna). My family hosted a Chaand Raat party, and the night felt endless as it blended into Eid morning.
We woke up early to pray Eid salah at my grandparents’ house, then headed to the East Bay to see more family and friends. Every family has their own Eid traditions. Between the typical lunch at my grandparents or uncle’s house, a mandatory milk tea excursion, my grandfather’s brother’s big Eid party and an evening celebration with friends, the day unfolded in a blur of food, laughter and festivities.
As I reflect on the month, Ramadan reminds me that true connection with God requires effort, yet still remains meaningful. Friendship, growth, spirituality and more are never built overnight; you have to push yourself to reach for them.
Throughout my life, Ramadan has signified an effervescent period of my life where my relationships, sense of purpose and connection with God blossoms. This year was no different. This Ramadan was magical.