Ramadan is more than hunger and thirst. It is more than the ritual of abstaining from food and drink from dawn to dusk. While fasting has been practiced for millennia—across civilizations, religions, and cultures—Ramadan carries a deeper essence for Muslims. It is a time of reflection, self-purification, and, above all, truth.
Yet, truth is not always comfortable. It is not always easy. In our communities, we often find ways to sidestep it, to veil it in pleasantries, or to ignore it altogether. But Ramadan calls us to something higher. It reminds us that fasting is not just about the body but also about the soul—about cleansing our intentions, confronting our shortcomings, and speaking with honesty even when it is difficult.
Truth in Speech and Action
The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) taught that fasting is incomplete without guarding one’s tongue from falsehood, slander, and harmful speech. Yet, how often do we see silence in the face of injustice? How often do we turn a blind eye to the struggles of the vulnerable—the poor, the disabled, the oppressed—because it is easier than speaking out?
Fasting from food is simple; fasting from dishonesty, hypocrisy, and indifference is far harder. Ramadan demands that we examine not just what we consume but also what we say, what we do, and what we ignore. It demands that we speak the truth, even when it is uncomfortable.
Beyond Ritual: The Purpose of Fasting
Every civilization has known fasting in some form. Ancient Egyptians fasted in reverence to their gods. Greeks fasted for purification. Hindus, Buddhists, and Jews all observe fasts as acts of devotion. Islam, too, commands fasting—but with an emphasis on inner transformation.
The Qur’an states:
“O you who have believed, fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may attain taqwa (God-consciousness).” (Qur’an 2:183)
If fasting is meant to bring us closer to God, then surely it must bring us closer to truth as well. What good is an empty stomach if the heart is full of deceit? What good is abstaining from food if we do not abstain from injustice?
The Forgotten Pain
Once we were strangers, weary and worn,
Crossing the seas, through nights forlorn.
We sought refuge, a place to stand,
In lands that offered a helping hand.
Once we knew hunger, once we knew cold,
The weight of injustice, stories untold.
Yet now in comfort, we turn away,
From those in shadows, left to fray.
The disabled cry, yet who will hear?
Their struggles met with hollow cheer.
Do our prayers rise while they still weep?
Can we find peace while sorrow runs deep?
Do we not recall, in distant lands,
How weakness trembled in trembling hands?
How doors were shut and roads were steep,
How voices cracked, too hurt to speak?
Once, our feet were shackled tight,
By poverty’s chain, by endless plight.
We knocked on doors, we begged for aid,
Now, do we leave the weak betrayed?
The blind, the broken, those cast aside,
Their pain remains, though ours has dried.
Shall we forget the mercy shown,
And let their suffering turn to stone?
O you who walked the path of pain,
How can you now let it remain?
The weak, the weary—do not ignore,
For mercy fades when hearts go sore.
Shall we live in peace while they endure,
A world unkind, a fate unsure?
No, rise once more with hands that heal,
For faith is love, and love is real.
For what is faith, if not to care?
To lift the burden, to stand and share.
Let us not rest while one still cries,
For justice sleeps when kindness dies.
The Courage to Speak, the Will to Act
In our communities, silence is often mistaken for peace. We avoid speaking difficult truths out of fear—fear of judgment, fear of confrontation, fear of change. But Ramadan is not a month of fear. It is a month of courage, of standing firm in righteousness, of breaking not just our fasts at sunset but breaking the cycles of dishonesty and complacency that hold us back.
Truth is not always grand; sometimes, it is as simple as acknowledging our own faults. It is as simple as listening to those we have ignored, supporting those who suffer, and standing up for justice even when it is inconvenient.
So this Ramadan, let us fast in the fullest sense—not just from food and drink, but from falsehood and silence. Let us embrace truth, speak it with sincerity, and live by it with conviction. For a fast without truth is only hunger, but a fast with truth is transformation.
