Enjoying the colourful display of sarees at a shop, I was offered prasad by the shopkeeper. I accepted the prasad and kept it in my pocket almost instantly. Bewildered and a little offended, he asked me the reason. “I’m fasting,” I said.

My mind took me to the concept of Ramadan. The month of Ramadan comes once each year giving every fasting Muslim a spiritual and physical improvement that lasts until the following year. It is considered a gift from god in the form of mercy and forgiveness. The most distinct feature of this sacred month is the concept of fasting, which is considered the third pillar of Islam.

The idea of fasting is to control one’s will and physical needs, thereby finding more time to submit oneself to Allah. Scientifically, fasting clears you off the toxins in  the body and strengthens the immune system. The end of Ramadan is celebrated as Eid-ul-fitr and it is on this occasion that gifts are exchanged in the spirit of the holy month.

The din and bustle of Chawri Bazaar woke me up from my thoughts. And as soon as I caught a glimpse of the minaret of the grand mosque, the beautiful Jama Masjid took over me completely.

I hurried through the intricate lanes as I had planned to break my fast at the grand Jama Masjid. As a hosteller for the last 10 years, I rarely had a chance to sit with friends or family to have iftaar. The next 45 minutes changed my perception of breaking the fast during Ramadan.

As I ascended the steps of Jama Masjid, I stopped and turned back. The panoramic view of old Delhi and the historic Red Fort stood before me. I was humbled. Indeed, it was rightly named Masjid-i-JahanNuma (the mosque commanding a view of the world).

The courtyard was dotted with colourful clusters of families and friends. Many people could be seen in the arched colonnade setting up their collection for iftaar. Toddlers were running through the flock of pigeons at the  courtyard.

At a little distance, the volunteers were distributing roohafza (a sweet drink) that was kept in huge containers. The plates were aesthetically adorned with fruit salad, ghugni (spicy cooked gram), samosa and delicious firni (rice cooked in sweet milk).

 Suddenly, the air reverberated with the boom of nangada (a type of huge drum) and almost immediately, the edges of the mosque lit up as if hundreds of stars had descended from sky. I contended myself with dates and two glasses of roohafza. No one was shouting at each other and everyone forgot their tension here. Emperor Shahjahan would never have thought in 1656 AD that his red sandstone wonder would once stand for brotherhood and unity.

 One  Md. Umar was diligently clearing the paper plates and other residues which got  dropped around by accident. I thought he must be a staff member of the mosque. To my astonishment, I was told that he was just a visitor and that particular day he had come on the request of his ammijaan. He said, “Unka dil tha yahan iftaar karoon isliye hum chale aaye” (it was her wish to have iftaar here, so we came).

Indeed, people had many reasons to come here. Some considered it a paak (holy) place, some called it Dilli ka dil (heart of Delhi) and a group of elderly beamed, “Is paak jagah par itne logon ke saath iftaar aur bhi lazeez ho jata hai” (the taste of iftaar)

The next 10 minutes were the most peaceful with everyone busy fulfilling the day’s need for food. There was a call for Namaaz and people fell into neat queues. They offered prayer with heads bowing in excellent synchronisation that could put a marching military to shame. After the prayer, I moved towards the exit along with everyone.

I then had a chance to visit Meena Bazaar at the steps of the mosque. It was already packed. Stalls and stalls of tempting Kashmiri akhrot, apples, biryaani, shining Muraadabaadi aluminium utensils and intricately adorned Jaipuri suits lay before me. Everyone was busy shopping for Eid. 

Before I left for the nearest metro station, I caught a last glance of the fading silhouette of the lofty domes as the sun finally drifted below the horizon.