Years before when I was about six, I remember noticing all the grown-ups in my family talking about suhoor and planning for it. At that time (before exams and assignments ruled my life) I was accustomed to the early-to-bed drill, and was tucked away in bed at 9 and since I hadn’t begun fasting at that time, I never had the chance to actually witness a suhoor.

So after a week or so, my curiosity was at an all-time high. My elder brother, who had begun fasting by then, true to his nature, didn’t miss the opportunity to trick me. When I first asked him what everyone did before dawn, he came up with stories about how much fun they have in suhoor playing games and stuff.

My brother’s imaginary merry-making tales got better and better by the day, and, to my chagrin, all the while I was asleep! My mother had reassured me that it was just a meal before beginning the fast, but as a child I was willing to believe the better story and thought it was a ploy grown-ups played to keep pesky little kids away from the fun.

Children and curiosity is a lethal combination. Oh no you don’t I said to myself. I wasn’t going to be an outcast from the group. I had made up my mind to see for myself.

So, the next day I stayed awake all night pretending to be fast asleep. For someone habituated to be in the slumber land at 8, the extra 7 hours of being awake was a struggle of gigantic proportion. But the thrill to be part of something so wonderful overcame all exertion.

Finally as I heard the hustling sounds around, I realized the time had come. I rushed out of my room and declared I was going to be part of the suhoor. My parents after the initial not-getting-enough-sleep-for-school sermon relented.

First came the elaborate meal. I was a picky eater back then but in my enthusiasm to be part of the fun I was prepared to eat a cow if I had to.

Now would probably be the time to start playing a game or go on a drive somewhere I assumed.

Oh, but let’s pray first. Pray. Done.

And then everyone just went to sleep.

For a kid to see all her hard work gone in vain and dreams shattered, I went ballistic. I remember demanding we go out or do something fun as they did every day. My parents explained that this was what they all did each day before dawn as a Ramadan ritual. My brother was the epitome of innocence at this point barring the occasional smirk. He wouldn’t dare tell my parents about his suhoor tales. I had learned what suhoor is all about. Or so I thought.

Years later, when I began fasting and had come to comprehend the beauty of this glorious month was when I actually understood the significance of suhoor in its true spirit. It’s not just a meal. It’s a feast that brings the family together and prepares them for an act of complete submission to the Creator.

Looking back, I guess my brother wasn’t completely wrong. Maybe what he said was metaphorical and at that age I deciphered it literally. Suhoor and the fasting phase that follows do bring a sense of fulfillment and joy in my life. It isn’t the happiness he portrayed. It’s a lot better.