Lessons from Ramadan

Before moving to the UAE, I was familiar with Ramadan (we call it Ramzan in India). Growing up, I had friends who observed the holy month, and I was well-acquainted with fasting, suhour and iftar, and its spiritual significance. But my understanding was distant, shaped more by observation than experience.

That changed when I moved to the UAE. Here, Ramadan isn’t just a personal practice — it’s woven into daily life. The city’s pace shifts, conversations soften, and there’s an unspoken awareness that this month is special.

Over time, I realised Ramadan is about more than abstaining from food or drink. It’s about presence, patience, and perspective. And although I have never strictly observed the fast, its lessons have shaped my view of the world.

In a city driven by deadlines and ambition, Ramadan brings stillness. Mornings feel softer, the rush slows, and patience becomes a quiet norm.

At first, I thought this shift was simply a result of fasting. But as weeks passed, I saw it was something deeper. People became more mindful of their words and time. Even those not fasting, like me, spoke softer, paused before reacting, and moved with more awareness. I had always equated productivity with speed, but Ramadan taught me that slowing down isn’t about doing less — it’s about feeling more. It’s about sitting with your thoughts, noticing the world, and simply being instead of constantly doing. That’s a powerful lesson in a world that demands more.

I had attended iftar gatherings before, but only in the UAE did I truly understand what it means to end a fast. When the call to prayer rang out, there was no rush to eat — only a moment of quiet. People reached for dates and water with gratitude — pausing, reflecting, savouring.

I had always viewed food as fuel. But here, I saw it valued deeply. That moment shifted how I approach meals — more mindful of what I eat, more appreciative of those who prepare it, and more aware of how easily we take nourishment for granted. Hunger isn’t just physical. We hunger for connection, meaning, and moments that make us pause. Ramadan, quietly and powerfully, brings all that into focus.

Another side of Ramadan I hadn’t fully understood before coming to the UAE was its emphasis on giving.

Beyond fasting, there’s a steady flow of kindness — colleagues sharing iftar, strangers distributing food, and countless charity drives. One evening, I joined a group handing out iftar meals to blue-collar workers. It was a simple act, yet very humbling. Giving without expecting anything in return shifted my perspective. That day, I understood that Ramadan isn’t just about personal discipline — it’s about focusing on others.

I once thought of Ramadan as a deeply personal journey of faith and self-restraint. But living in the UAE taught me that while fasting is personal, Ramadan is collective.

Families gather every evening, offices host iftars, and communities unite. The entire city follows a shared rhythm, fostering a rare sense of togetherness in a fragmented world. To me, this is the most beautiful part of Ramadan. It’s not just about personal sacrifice — it’s about the connections it nurtures.

Over the years, I’ve come to see Ramadan as more than a holy month — it’s a way of life. It teaches patience in a world that demands urgency, gratitude in a culture of excess, and the joy of sharing.

Each Ramadan, I unconsciously adjust — speaking softer, moving slower, and paying more attention to the world. Even without fasting, the month leaves its mark.

While my experience differs from those who observe traditionally, Ramadan’s impact on me has been profound. Some lessons transcend religion and become universal truths — and for that, I will always be grateful.