Words can never be enough to describe how I am feeling right now as you are leaving us… again. Dejavu. If you were tangible, I would hug you so tightly, struggling to let you go off from my arms. This year, you’ve meant too much to me because of the things that I thought I was never capable of doing but more importantly, things that I never thought I would detach myself from—the world.
There were days when I slipped but unlike previously, I learned to get back up faster and fought against my meek self. I learned to not lose hope.
Changing to become a better Muslim, a better self is easier said than done. Initially, we’d all feel as if we need to sprint in the beginning as the hype was there—the excitement was there. But as we matured and was more aware of the natural state of us as human beings, we learned to distribute our energy throughout you. It’s amazing how you’ve united us all to go back to our Rabb, the Lord of the worlds, without even trying. Of course, by the will of Allah.
Your existence had turned a hopeless, frustrated sinner to a dedicated believer, reminding us that Allah is the Most Forgiving. Your presence had made an arrogant believer, one who’d believe that all goodness comes from him or herself to a humble servant, reminding them of all the sins that they had done.
It’s amazing how a month like you could transform us at so many levels. We’ve read and spent time with the Quran like never before. We’d wake up at night to pray to our Rabb, to be alone with Him. We stay in our sujood longer than ever, until our back hurts in humility for all the repeated sins that we had done and for all the negligent acts that had made us further away from our One True Beloved, Allah Rabbal ‘Alamin. It’s like “Our soul is home”, a familiar voice echoes in my head, reminding me that we are happy in Ramadhan because our soul is home.
We’ve forgiven people—no matter how hurt we are—like it’s the last thing that we’d ever do. We become gentle and kind to our fellow brothers and sisters because that is what Rasulullah (Peace Be Upon Him) would do.
You’ve made us closer to Allah and to our beloved family and friends like never before. Allah has blessed you as He has blessed us to be able to welcome you again.
But as we are only just settling down with you… you are leaving again. The question now would be, will we ever be able to do everything that we’ve done in Ramadhan for the next 11 months? Would we feel the calmness that you had given to us? Would we then
But I also believe that Allah is Al-Hakeem (The Most Wise), He knows what’s best for His servants. For if we would be too attached to you, Ramadhan, it could be that we’d pray because of you not of Him. Naudzubillah. For if you’d stay longer, it could be that we’d take you for granted. For you are just a tool, a means, a training ground, for us to become even closer to our Rabb.
Words can never be enough for us to describe how we’ll miss your presence.
It’s already Syawal as I am writing this. I hope it’s not too late to write this to you. I pray that we’ll meet again next year. I pray that whoever reads this are in their best state of iman (faith). I pray that whoever started struggling earlier this month, ended up attaining hope. I pray that whoever came into the month broken, would have their wounds mended completely. Not because of you, Ramadhan, but because of Allah.
I pray that whoever is not ready to celebrate Syawal, would know that it is okay to not be at their happiest state as probably they have gone through too much in life that they’d need time to heal.
I pray that this is just the beginning of something better for whoever reads this open letter. A better version of themselves. A better mindset. A better state of mental health. A better state of spirituality.
Most importantly, Ramadhan, you have been a month when we found what we needed all along: our Rabb.