Every year, one month out of 12. A blessed month where people reaffirm their beliefs and try to make themselves better for the year to come. Battling demons and desires as they truly want to change for the better. You see people that rarely show their faces, you eat food with groups, and getting to know others. A month where old habits die and new ones are trying to be maintained. This is where evil tends to dies, and good is supposed to be born.
Growing up, I always strived to be the best Muslim, especially in the month of Ramadan. Since i started going to college and working, my time is gone and i wish i could have done so much more in the past. I always wanted to memorize the Quran, I wanted to read more as the days went by. But now, I can barely fit a couple of pages in a day. It has become a month of struggle. Struggling to get back on the right track and struggling to fight against the bad habits that you got used to in the past months. I was always told that some people speak with their tongue, and speak with their heart. I’ve read posts and articles about people finally feeling some sort of peace in their prayers and finally, internally accepting Islam after years of just practicing. I ache and I pray that one day, before I’m gone from this world, that I can feel that peace that others feel in their soul. The feeling of finally accepting and being rewarded for trying their best. Islam is beautiful, and I pray that one day, I can lock all my devils away, and fall in love with something so great.