"Have a date, sister" a voice whispered. I had been so rapt by the moving speech that I had forgotten that it was time to break the fast.
"Thanks!" I whispered gratefully in return and popped the moist date into my mouth. Phew! Every fast completed was seen as a huge personal victory. I was definitely getting the hang of it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, with obvious embarrassment. "It's not time yet to open your fast."
"What?! You mean I've broken my fast?"
I was so upset and confused. Why on earth had she offered me food if the time hadn't arrived to eat? I cast a glance across the prayer hall and realized that everyone else was holding their dates in their hands, and awaiting the adhan (call to prayer) to signal the arrival of maghrib (sunset).
"It's okay, sister. She's not Muslim...yet. She's learning about Islam," a voice whispered.
"Aww, Mashallah!" I don't know who was more embarrassed: me or the date-distributor. I was relieved to learn that accidental eating and drinking does not nullify the fast. By now, the adhan had sounded. I nonchalantly picked up another date and ate as one with everyone else, like a seasoned veteran.

After the prayer had ended, containers of biryani were distributed. A few late-comers snuck into the hall. Wow. I recognised those guys. Two were Hindu and one was Sikh. I had expected to be the only non-Muslim in the hall, but obviously this month of mercy was affecting many a heart. I felt regretful that they had missed such a beautiful lecture and just made it in time for the meal. As I edged my way towards the exit, I overheard these guys admitting that they had only come along for the free meal. Now I understood that they had timed their arrival so as to have missed the talk and prayer. I threw a furious look in their direction, glad that I had come along for food for the soul.

In the final week of Ramadaan, I began wearing the hijab full-time. This was akin to waving the proverbial red flag at a group of Sikh guys on my course. They refused to believe that I didn't have a secret Pakistani boyfriend for whom I was converting in order to marry. I argued that Muslim men can marry Christian and Jewish women, so I wouldn't have to convert in order to marry a Muslim anyway, but it was no use.
"Why do you want to become a Paki then, eh?" was the question on everyone's lips.
"I'm not becoming a 'Paki'. I'm becoming a Muslim," I would insist. But to them, there was no difference.
"Just become a Sikh instead, innit," they helpfully advised. My attempts to turn the question around by asking them why they followed their particular religion were fruitless.
"What makes you convinced that Sikhism is the right path to God?"
"Oh man, I don't know nothing about my religion. But I'd never become a Paki!"

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