No camaraderie spirit at all!

too young to fast. Mum replied coolly that it was the right age and I’ll get used to it.

When getting back to my grandpa’s house, I continued lying down, this time on the couch in front of TV. In those days we only had two TV channels: Oman and Dubai. On Oman TV they played Captain Majid cartoon, the footballer who took two episodes to score one goal. Then it was time for Layali al Hilmia, the famous Egyptian series that we waited for every Ramadhan. Time was passing so slow as through mud. My tummy was growling and my mouth was parched. I kept dozing off and dreaming of food and cold water, when I was suddenly woken by my peppy mum: “Time to hit the supermarket!”

All at once, my zombie feeling was shaken off and my battery was charged as I stepped inside the supermarket. I went on a rampage, filling the trolley with everything I liked and didn’t really like. I came back with a big white plastic bag filled with junk, tied carefully and stashed at the back of the couch so my non fasting brother and cousins wouldn’t find it.

Iftar time was the best thing that ever happened to me. I ate and drank like there was no tomorrow, despite my mum’s warning to slow down. Again, I ended up lying on the couch this time feeling too stuffed up to move while the adults congratulated me for passing my first fasting day.

I didn’t touch the junk bag till the next day and didn’t share it with my brother. I was the one who went through the fasting ordeal and deserved the treat all by myself. No camaraderie spirit at all!