A feeling of anguish, distress and guilt empowers me. My fast is for a measly 19 hours, where I begin and end each with the equivalent of a feast and I complain of starving. These are the daily struggles faced by millions of people throughout the world. Each of my fasts are comparable to a drop in the ocean of the angst felt by my fellow brothers and sisters in need of our compassion.
As the day draws closer to dusk, I often refer to myself as “starving”, my mind is frequently consumed with selfish thoughts, I have forgotten the primary aim of fasting. My fast is water for my dehydrated soul. An awakening and gratitude for what I have, and many others pray for, a way to empathise with the less fortunate and compassion for those in need of our help. It isn’t about me at all, it is about creating an awareness of others, what I can do for them?Read More