Twenty-plus days have already gone by and it’s fast moving towards the end. I look back and recall my excitement at the coming of Ramazan. I remember how I dreaded the long fasts and wondered how I would make it through the day without my endless mugs of tea. But I also remember thinking to myself, ‘I will make it through the month somehow.’ The anticipation of it; the buying of groceries and stocking up the freezer and then when it was finally here, the disorientation as I stumbled towards the kitchen to prepare the first few sehris until the bodyclock somewhat adjusted  to the new sleep (or lack thereof) routine.

Mosques resonate with sounds of Hayya ‘alal falah (come towards success) the year round, but the message is somewhat magnified in Ramazan. Or maybe it’s because we are just more attuned to listening carefully and are more spiritually awake in this month?

In retrospect, I wonder whether I gained anything during the month I like to think of as time for physical and spiritual detoxification. Ramazan begins with zeal for so many of us; we earnestly hope and pray it’ll be more than the delicious, mouth-watering iftar parties and the sehri deals and the trips to the bazaar in preparation for Eid. But do we make full use of it?

When one understands what Ramazan truly means, we try to make resolutions and try to stick to them; “I shall not lose my temper,” “I shall not backbite,” “I shall be more charitable and less selfish,” “I shall be kinder to my servants, my family, and those closest to me,” “I shall try and quit smoking. If I can control myself for 15 hours of fasting, why not permanently?” Some succeed while others don’t. Yet, we all do try.

According to ancient wisdom, the soul is at its strongest when the body is at its weakest due to fasting. A renewed connection with one’s Creator gives energy that we lose when we are out of touch with our spiritual side. It’s interesting to note that many see spirituality and religiosity as two different and often opposite concepts. They actually are part and parcel of each other; complimentary and not adversary.

It’s also a great time for some healthy physical changes. One would be to eat an early evening meal and not plop into bed right away. Another, is to inculcate more fruit into our diet, and drink enough liquid instead of just concentrating on solids. A few samosas and pakoras here and there are fair enough, but generally better food choices make fasting easier.

This Ramazan has been an unusual one for Pakistan. Millions displaced at the hands of the flood that has destroyed not just the livelihoods of millions, but will have long-lasting effects on the country’s already fragile economy and stability. We are disillusioned and disappointed at ourselves as nation, seeing the rampant corruption, and every possible evil, from match- fixing to ethnic violence – it’s as if the sanctity of the month is no longer valued. Every night, tarawihs are held at every mosque attended by hundreds and thousands of people across the country. Yet, in the same month, two boys were publicly lynched.

But before we write off the nation, we must see the flip side of the coin. Unprecedented acts of charity, of giving and of sharing are witnessed everywhere today. From the young volunteers stitching quilts for the displaced from donated T-shirts, to men and women collecting and packing food and relief goods – there is a sense of responsibility. The armed forces have won a new-found admiration and respect for the way they have worked tirelessly to save lives.

Everyone may not agree, but the generous charity has something to do with Ramazan. It’s not that people wouldn’t have contributed in other months, but the generosity of giving is definitely at a higher level. The worst has also brought out the best in us, and this is where our hope lies.

My fear is that as the month is about to end, I’m not sure this wave of fervour and enthusiasm will remain consistent. Will we let the spirit of Ramazan spill over into the coming months? We pray regularly and become extremely charitable in Ramazan, but forget about it during the rest of the year. We often don’t carry the lessons we learn and habits we form, into the other 11 months of the year.  Once the excitement dies, we stop being as considerate and charitable as we are in this month. I fear, that instead of a sustained long-term change, we may forget the spirit of unity, charity and volunteerism that is throbbing these days. I truly hope my fears are the unfounded fears of a cynic, because people in Pakistan need hope right now, as well as in the coming months.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.