By Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal
As the blessed month of Ramazan approaches, one is naturally inclined to reflection. I am reminded of a charming yet profound incident recorded in the diary of Ashfaq Ahmed. He narrates that a Japanese colleague in his office, a young woman named Miwa, once asked him at the commencement of Ramazan: “What do you gain by remaining hungry and thirsty from dawn to dusk for an entire month?” He replied that fasting is an act of worship; it is not confined to abstaining from food and drink, but demands abstinence from falsehood, dishonesty, injustice and every unworthy deed. It requires one to perform one’s duties with integrity, to weigh fairly, to speak truthfully, and to guard the tongue and the heart from evil.
The young woman responded with remarkable seriousness: “You have the advantage. We must avoid these wrongs throughout the year, while you do so only for one month.” Her observation, though simple, holds up a mirror to the Muslim conscience. Ramazan is not meant to be a seasonal display of virtue; it is a disciplined return to the moral order that Islam demands at all times. The Holy Qur’an declares: “O you who believe! Fasting is prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, that you may attain piety” (2:183). The objective is not hunger, but taqwa — that inward consciousness of Almighty Allah which restrains a person from wrongdoing even in solitude. In this sacred month, the mosques assume a new splendor.
Rows of worshippers fill the houses of Allah; caps adorn heads, rosaries pass through attentive fingers, and tongues are softened by remembrance. Yet these outward symbols must correspond to inward transformation. Ramazan is a school of humility, a season of submission, and a reminder of human frailty before Divine Majesty. Allah Almighty says: “The month of Ramazan in which was revealed the Qur’an, a guidance for mankind and clear proofs of guidance and criterion” (2:185). It is thus not merely a month of ritual, but of guidance and moral awakening. The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, warned with striking clarity: “Whoever does not abandon false speech and acting upon it, Allah has no need of his leaving his food and drink” (Sahih al-Bukhari).
In another narration, he said: “Fasting is a shield” (Bukhari and Muslim). A shield protects from external harm; fasting protects the soul from its own lower inclinations. If the tongue continues to wound, if the hand continues to oppress, and if the scales remain unjust, then hunger alone is but a physical exercise devoid of spiritual merit. One recalls a disturbing scene in the market last year. Three days before Ramazan, a customer asked a fruit vendor, “Your father has not been seen lately — is he well?” The reply was revealing: his father, he said, had departed for Umrah. Yet it was common knowledge in the market that once Ramazan commenced, he would raise the prices of fruit without hesitation, justifying the increase by asserting that wholesale rates had surged. Such conduct betrays a misunderstanding of the month’s essence.
Ramazan demands that we create ease, not hardship; relief, not exploitation. The Prophet, peace be upon him, said: “He who gives food for a fasting person to break his fast will have a reward like his, without diminishing the reward of the fasting person in the slightest” (Tirmidhi). The spirit of Ramazan is generosity, fairness and compassion, especially towards the poor and needy. Allah’s mercy in this month is beyond measure. The Prophet, peace be upon him, informed us that when Ramazan begins, the gates of Paradise are opened, the gates of Hell are closed, and the devils are chained (Bukhari and Muslim). Furthermore, good deeds are multiplied manifold, and scholars have explained that in Ramazan this multiplication is even greater. It is as though Divine mercy is displayed in abundance, so that the path of righteousness becomes unmistakably clear.
Allah loves His servants with a love surpassing the tenderness of seventy mothers. He desires not their hardship, but their guidance. Ramazan is therefore a refresher course in moral discipline — a training period in which habits are reformed and character refined. Human nature teaches us that repetition engrains practice into habit. If, for thirty consecutive days, one restrains anger, guards the tongue, fulfils trusts and performs prayers with punctuality, these virtues begin to root themselves in the personality. How fortunate are those who are granted another Ramazan in their lifetime. Many who fasted with us last year now lie beneath the earth, awaiting the Day of Reckoning.
To witness Ramazan again is a sign of Divine favor and an opportunity for renewal. The Qur’an calls upon us: “So flee to Allah” (51:50). Ramazan is precisely that flight — a turning away from heedlessness towards obedience. Let us, therefore, resolve that this sacred month shall not be a temporary ornament but a permanent transformation. Let the honesty practiced in Ramazan continue in trade and profession. Let the restraint shown in fasting persist in speech and conduct. Let the compassion awakened for the hungry endure throughout the year. If Ramazan reforms our character for the eleven months beyond it, then we shall have truly understood its purpose. Otherwise, we risk confirming Miwa’s gentle rebuke — that we confined virtue to a single month when it was meant to illuminate the whole year.
(The writer is a seasoned parliamentary expert with over two decades of experience in legislative research and media affairs, leading policy support initiatives for lawmakers on complex national and international issues, and can be reached at editorial@metro-Morning.com)
