By Peer Mohammad Amir Qureshi
Ramazan is a month of divine mercy, the crown jewel of all months, when the heavens seem to draw closer to the earth. Not long ago, its arrival would bring a palpable shift in the air—a blend of joy and reverence, hope and self-accountability. The mere mention of its approach would stir even the most heedless hearts. A week before its onset, the atmosphere would transform: streets would quieten, hearts would soften, and even those entangled in sin would feel the weight of Allah’s gaze, prompting a longing for redemption.
In those days, every Muslim—no matter how distant from faith—would make a sincere resolve: “I must abandon my bad deeds. I must refrain from them.” Watching movies, listening to music, using abusive language, and exploiting others for profit—these vices would be cast aside, if only for this sacred month. The air itself carried a divine urgency, a call to purify, to repent, to rise.
But now, as I look around, I am struck by a painful truth: that Ramazan, that sacred transformation, seems to have faded. The mosques may be fuller, and the streets may echo with Quranic recitations, yet the hearts within them remain unchanged. The essence of Ramazan—its call to self-discipline, its demand for spiritual reckoning—seems buried under the weight of our distractions.
Have We Traded Reflection for Rituals?
We fast from dawn to dusk, abstaining from food and drink, yet we indulge in lies, gossip, and greed. We stand in prayer, our foreheads touching the ground in a gesture of humility, yet our minds remain entangled in the endless scroll of social media, the fleeting allure of entertainment, and the ceaseless distractions of a world that refuses to pause.
Have we turned Ramazan into a mere cycle of hunger and thirst rather than a season of spiritual rejuvenation? Do we fast only to satisfy tradition rather than transform our hearts? The Prophet (peace be upon him) said, “Indeed, Allah does not look at your appearances or wealth, but He looks at your hearts and actions.” (Muslim)
If we stand in prayer but our thoughts are elsewhere, if we recite the Quran without absorbing its meaning, if we give charity while exploiting others—what remains of the Ramazan we claim to observe?
The Prophet (peace be upon him) warned, “Whoever does not give up false speech and evil actions, Allah is not in need of his leaving his food and drink.” (Bukhari) These words cut deep, for they seem to describe our condition today—outwardly observing Ramazan while inwardly neglecting its true purpose.
Are We Truly Upholding the Spirit of Ramazan?
Ramazan was meant to be a time of transformation, yet we must ask ourselves: have we truly embraced its essence? Have we upheld the values of mercy, humility, and generosity that this sacred month demands?
Are our fasts bringing us closer to righteousness, or have they become mere physical routines? Do our prayers reflect sincerity and devotion, or are they empty gestures? We abstain from food and drink, yet do we also abstain from dishonesty, arrogance, and injustice?
Ramazan is not just about controlling hunger—it is about purifying the heart. It is meant to refine our character and elevate our faith. But if our actions remain unchanged, if our hearts remain unmoved, then what have we truly gained from this blessed month?
A Ramazan of Profits or a Ramazan of Piety?
As the crescent moon of Ramazan graces the skies, another shadow looms over Kashmir—a shadow of exploitation. The holy month, meant to be a time of spiritual reflection and communal harmony, is increasingly marred by a stark and unsettling reality: the relentless surge in prices of daily essentials.
Fruits like papaya, watermelon, and bananas—symbols of abundance and joy—now bear the weight of greed, their prices soaring beyond the reach of the common man.
Why is it that during Ramazan—when generosity should flourish—businesses hike prices instead of easing burdens? Why do traders who claim to fast and pray exploit the very people they kneel beside in Salah?
The contrast with other festive seasons is striking. During various cultural and religious celebrations, businesses introduce discounts, offers, and special provisions to make festivities accessible to all. Yet, during Ramazan, when selflessness should be at its peak, we find the opposite—an economy of excess that burdens the struggling.
Is this the legacy we want to leave behind? That in a month meant for giving, we take? That in a season of mercy, we become merciless?
Allama Iqbal’s poignant words echo in my mind, a haunting remember of our fall from grace
“Woh mu’azzaz thay zamane mein insaan ho kar,
Hum khwaar hue tareek-e-Quran ho kar.”
(They were honored in the world for their humanity,
We have been disgraced despite claiming the path of the Quran.)
How true these words ring today! The very values that should define us—justice, compassion, and selflessness—are now overshadowed by greed and indifference.
Reclaiming the Spirit of Ramazan
Ramazan is not just about fasting from food and drink; it is about fasting from greed, from exploitation, from injustice. It is about remembering the less fortunate, sharing our blessings, and embodying the mercy and compassion of Allah.
Yet, what do we see? A marketplace where the rich grow richer, and the poor grow poorer. A society where the spirit of Ramazan is buried under the weight of materialism.
This is not the Ramazan our faith envisions. This is not the Ramazan our Prophet (peace be upon him) exemplified. This is a Ramazan in danger of losing its soul.
How long will we allow this travesty to continue? How long will we remain silent as the essence of Ramazan is trampled underfoot? How long will we let greed overshadow piety, and profit overshadow devotion?
The time has come to reclaim the true spirit of Ramazan. To hold accountable those who exploit the vulnerable. To remember that fasting is not just about abstaining from food, but about feeding the hungry, easing the burdens of others, and embodying Allah’s mercy in every action, every transaction, every interaction.
Let us not be the people who dishonor the Quran by our deeds. Let us be the people who honor it by our humanity. Let us make Ramazan what it was meant to be—a month of mercy, not of exploitation; a month of unity, not of disparity; a month of devotion, not of hypocrisy.
The Prophet (peace be upon him) said, “The best charity is that given in Ramazan.” (Tirmidhi) Let us strive to embody this spirit—not just in our giving, but in our every action. Let us remember that Ramazan is a time for reflection, for repentance, for renewal. It is a time to reconnect with our Creator, to recalibrate our hearts and lives, to rise above our flaws and touch the Divine.
Let us not let this Ramazan pass us by—another missed opportunity, another year of empty rituals. Let us make it a month of true transformation, a month of mercy, a month of grace.
Let us make it a Ramazan that honors the Quran, that honors our faith, that honors our humanity.
Views expressed in the article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the editorial stance of Kashmir Observer
- The author is a columnist and feature writer based in Ganderbal. He X’ s @peermohdamir
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