“The Intersection Of Ramadan And Personal Hobbies: How South Asian Women Continue Their Passions During The Holy Month.”
As Naila sat at her desk, fingers poised over the keyboard, she hesitated for a moment before continuing the sentence she had been typing. The golden hues of the evening sun filtered through her window, casting long shadows on the walls. It was nearly Maghrib, and the scent of frying pakoras wafted in from the kitchen.
She checked the clock. Twenty minutes left.
Her roommates, Zoya and Mariam, were in the living room, debating over whether they should have fruit chaat or just go straight for the samosas.
“I think I’ll work on my blog for a little longer,” Naila muttered to herself. Ramadan was a time for devotion, yes, but it was also a time for reflection, and writing had always been her way of making sense of the world.
Balancing Faith and Creativity
Naila had always loved writing, ever since she was a little girl growing up in Karachi. During Ramadan, she would fill her diary with thoughts about fasting, the iftar menu, and the excitement of waiting for Eid. Even now, years later, as a freelance writer living abroad, she found herself drawn to her notebook every Ramadan, scribbling down memories and reflections.
For her, fasting didn’t mean putting her passion on hold—it just meant adjusting her schedule.
Some days, she wrote in the quiet stillness of the early morning, after Fajr, when the world was still asleep. Other days, she wrote in the golden hours before iftar, when the hunger sharpened her focus rather than dulling it.
“I think fasting makes my writing more introspective,” she once told Zoya. “It’s like my mind slows down, and I actually listen to my own thoughts.”
Zoya, an artist, nodded in understanding. “Same with painting. I feel like I get more emotional when I paint during Ramadan.”
Art and Fasting: A Different Kind of Meditation
Zoya had always been the creative one in their group, her sketchbook never too far from reach.
One evening, while waiting for iftar, Naila found her sitting cross-legged on the floor, brush in hand, painting a soft watercolor of a mosque at sunset.
“You’re really doing this right now?” Naila teased.
Zoya grinned. “It helps distract me. If I sit around thinking about how hungry I am, I’ll go crazy.”
Mariam, lounging nearby with a book, laughed. “That’s why I read. It keeps my mind occupied.”
Naila leaned over to look at Zoya’s painting. The soft pastels of pink and orange blended beautifully into the dome of the mosque. It reminded her of the Taraweeh prayers they used to attend back home, stepping out into the cool night air afterward, the sound of the imam’s voice still echoing in their minds.
Fitness and Fasting: A Test of Endurance
While Naila and Zoya found solace in their creative pursuits, Mariam had a different approach—she was the fitness enthusiast of the group.
One afternoon, just before Asr, Naila walked into the living room and saw Mariam rolling out a yoga mat.
“You’re going to work out while fasting?” Naila asked, incredulous.
Mariam shrugged. “Just some stretching and light movement. It actually makes me feel better.”
Naila shook her head. “If I so much as think about exercise while fasting, I feel ten times thirstier.”
Zoya, who had just emerged from her room, chimed in. “Yeah, my workout is lifting a spoonful of chaat to my mouth at iftar.”
Mariam rolled her eyes. “It’s not that bad, guys. Movement helps! Besides, I’ll feel less guilty when I eat all the parathas at sehri.”
Passions, But With Purpose
Despite their different interests, all three of them found a way to make their hobbies fit into Ramadan—not as a distraction, but as a way to connect more deeply with themselves.
Naila wrote about the spiritual aspects of fasting. Zoya painted scenes inspired by Islamic architecture. Mariam adjusted her fitness routine to work with the rhythm of the fast.
And through it all, they made time for prayer, reflection, and the quiet moments of gratitude that Ramadan brought with it.
One evening, just minutes before Maghrib, the three of them sat together in the living room, the table set for iftar. The sky outside had turned a deep shade of blue, and the anticipation of breaking their fast hung in the air.
“You know,” Naila said, looking at them, “I used to think Ramadan meant putting everything on pause. But now I feel like it just makes everything more meaningful.”
Zoya smiled. “It’s like… whatever you love doing, you just do it with a little more intention.”
Mariam stretched and sighed. “Speaking of intention, my intention is to eat at least three samosas tonight.”
They all burst into laughter just as the Azaan rang out, signaling the end of another fast.
And in that moment—between hunger, exhaustion, and sheer joy—they were reminded once again of the beauty of balancing their passions with their faith.