By Zeebana Muqtadir
Ramadan, as a high school student, is just… a lot.
It is waking up at 4 AM, eating in silence because no one has the energy to talk, going back to sleep for what feels like five minutes, and then somehow expecting myself to function like a normal person at school. Every year I tell myself it will be easier. Every year, I am wrong.
Suhoor is probably my favorite part of the day. It is quiet, everyone is half asleep, and there is something comforting about all of us being together, even if no one is really saying anything. But the second the school bell rings, that calm feeling disappears.
By fourth or fifth period, it hits. Not all at once, just slowly. You are tired, your head kind of hurts, and focusing feels like a full-time job. Then come the questions. “No food or water?”
“How are you doing this?”
And the truth is, I just am. There is not really anything else to say.
Because the day does not slow down just because I am fasting.
I still have sports after school. I still have my job after that. Everything moves at the same speed. It just feels ten times harder to keep up.
Playing sports while fasting is probably the worst part. I am running, exhausted, and my body just refuses to cooperate. Then going straight to work after. Standing for hours, talking to people, acting like everything is normal. There is no real break. You just push through it.
Then, finally, it is time for iftar.
That moment carries my entire day. Sitting with my family, eating, talking. It makes everything feel worth it.
And then somehow, Eid comes way too fast.
Eid morning is the complete opposite. No fasting, actual energy, and a table full of food we have been thinking about all month. Everyone is dressed up, and everyone is in a good mood. It just feels easy.
The rest of the day is going from house to house, eating way too much, and seeing people you have not seen since last Eid.
Ramadan as a high school student is not easy. It is exhausting, busy, and does not fit neatly into your schedule.
But I think that is kind of the point.
It forces you to slow down, even when everything else is moving too fast. It makes you more aware of your habits, your time, and your faith.
And somehow, even with all of that, it is something I look forward to every year.
Zeebana Muqtadir is an Muslim American sophomore at Syosset High School, and she aspires to study Architecture. She loves to connect with her community, mentor others, and design. Aashna Shah coordinated the article submission for the column.
