and feeling rundown.

Must be that I’m simply doing too much.

On Saturday night I couldn’t sleep because I was running a list of all the things I needed to do in the morning in my head.

Sunday was Eid and I was expecting up to a hundred guests. I guess that would freak anyone out.

And I think deep within me, there’s this feeling inadequacy as a host. I always feel like the food I serve will never be enough–will run out–and it won’t taste good enough.

So I over prepare.

I guess I must be known for this because my dear mother in law has taken to warning me, “Don’t worry! Rukhsana, it’s really just immediate family who’s going to be eating at noon time. The other people who will pop in will nibble a bit of this and a bit of that. Don’t over prepare.”

And yet when I finished making seven pounds of beef curry and it only filled one small aluminum pan I thought, “Yikes!” And I went back to the halal meat store and bought five more pounds of beef and made another curry.

Turned out the five pounds got finished but the other pan wasn’t even necessary.

Same thing happened with all the chicken korma.

For the past few days I’ve been thinking of something I heard someone say about first world cultures vs third world cultures.

In first world cultures people concern themselves with whether the food was PRESENTED nicely! What was the tablecloth like, were there flowers, did the cutlery match, etc.?

Where as third world cultures always concern themselves with is there ENOUGH!

Funny thing is, I seem to be doing both  now.

Is there enough AND is it presented well?

Even after people tell me everything is delicious, alhamdu lillah, I’m still fretting that maybe they’re just saying that.

It took me over a month to prepare for Eid. It started way back, about six weeks ago, when I made a whole bunch of meat-filled buns and then froze the leftovers to serve at Eid. (They do freeze well! Couldn’t tell they’d been frozen at all! They even got finished.)

Then methodically, step by step, I prepared everything else.

Still have seventy-five pine tarts to make for Saturday, plus pizza. My sister asked for it because she likes my pizza! Go figure!

On Saturday we drive up to Ottawa insha Allah, and have the last Eid party.

I’m so glad!

I’m tired of partying.

I’m tired of rich food!

I want to go back to my normal meals.

Ramadan has come and gone, and now so has Eid, and I think I spent everything I had within me, in the process.

I am physically, mentally and emotionally overdrawn.

I need to build back up my ‘bank accounts’.

Went to jumaa on the last Friday of Ramadan or was it the Eid khutba (I can’t remember) anyways, the khateeb said something very interesting, asking the congregation what kind of people they were.

Were they the type of person that people dread facing? That people are worried what kind of mischief they would do. Where people watch their person and their things, like counting their fingers after they’ve shaken hands to make sure you didn’t snitch one. Were they that type of person?

Or were they the type of person where people expect good from? People who you want to be close to because they’re pleasant and friendly and helpful.

I hope to be the latter and I’m scared of being the former.

When I was reading the Quran, and this I do every Ramadan, I always look for the verses that describe the believers and good people and see if I possess any of the descriptive qualities.

And equally I look at the verses that describe the hypocrites and the disbelievers and see if I possess any of those descriptive traits.

At the end of Ramadan’s Quran reading, it always puts things into perspective.

And sometimes I feel wouldn’t my time be better spent just doing more charity and good deeds?

I need to do more charity.

There are so many people suffering in the world and I’m living a charmed life with often too much to eat.

I will be accountable as to how I used the resources that God gave me.

And yet, if I were to count how many times a day I think of God, it would probably be in the hundreds.

It’s like He’s always just over my shoulder and there’s a running dialogue in my mind where I’m talking to Him, asking Him for help in this, that or the other. Thanking Him for all the little conveniences that pepper my life.

Like when a trip is easier than I thought it would be, like when I go to the post office expecting a long line and there’s no one there and I can waltz right up to the counter and mail my package.

And when I don’t have my umbrella and the sky is ready to burst and I ask God to just hold off till I get inside, don’t let me, His servant, get wet, and He listens to my prayer.

(I actually haven’t carried an umbrella for  years! And 99.9% of the time the prayer works.)

And when it doesn’t I figure, oh well, it was God’s will I get wet.

But that said, I can’t remember the last time I got wet.

I’m afraid that this Ramadan consciousness will fade away.

It always does.

After Ramadan I’m all gung ho, full of religious fervour and good intentions, and by the time the next Ramadan rolls around I’ve slipped back into some lackadaisical habits and itching for a reboot.

Speaking of a reboot…I should go to bed.

I’m tired and it’s past 12:30.

Good night everyone.

I hope you all feel rested in the morning.

Peace out.