Ramadan Romanticism as a Child

Today, the 11th day of fasting has been undertaken by Muslims. For me, the month of Ramadan in recent years has been so bland. Without sour, salty, bitter, and spicy taste. Yes, tasteless without taste! Except for the sweet taste that manifests itself in the form of "Eid Money" before Eid. With this in mind, I suddenly missed my childhood that had Ramadan with great taste. Tasteful! Delicious!

Who was not cheerful about welcoming Ramadan when he was a child? If anything, I accuse them of not having a happy childhood. Playing is timeless, without prompting to go home. Especially if you have entered the holidays, ah really incomparable. Especially when "the late Gus Dur" became President, he took a full month off! Truly heaven on earth.

At most, what is not missed from Ramadan is the need to endure hunger and thirst, which was difficult to resist when they were young, especially when many friends who were innocent drank glasses full of dew which tempted faith. Not to mention that someone has eaten a bowl of noodles. "Luxury breaks the fast!" I thought. It's not the month of Ramadan, I can only eat noodles twice a week. This is the bitter taste of Ramadan.

Waking up to eat sahur is also one of the difficult things, maybe this is one of the sour tastes that coloured the delicacy of the month of Ramadan as a child. After the meal was over, even though the dawn call to prayer had yet to ring out, the children usually scattered outside the house to play firecrackers to wake up those who were still sleeping.

Playing firecrackers while walking around the housing, we often throw firecrackers at the homes of Christians and Chinese descendants because we used to have the mentality of the majority in general, that minorities should respect the majority because of that we wake them up so as not to feel the pleasure of sleeping at dawn as we did. feel. (sincerely and profusely apologies for disturbing your sleep at dawn)

After proudly throwing firecrackers into people's homes interspersed with jokes with our friends we continued to play in the musholla for dawn prayers. Yes, in places of worship we are rarely serious and solemn. It feels like we just continue the game with different settings according to the place. Even so, there was no feeling of guilt at that time. Understandably, his name is also a child.

Fajr prayer and the prayers are over. The children scattered out of the house and again the homes of Christians and Chinese descendants who we went to with the same goal as before prayers. So evil to remember, but his name was also a child who wanted only fun and pleasure. We stopped showering them with firecrackers when we heard exasperated screams from inside the house, we ran to avoid getting caught. Because if caught in the act, the rain of scorn will certainly draw out the ears. This may be part of the spicy taste of Ramadan.

We looked for an open space (usually in the front of our housing) to return to playing with the paper that rolled the gunpowder. All the fun spilt over in this place, some came home with torn sarongs or torn pants due to throwing firecrackers. Until the sun was getting high or around seven or eight we just broke up from the firecracker party.

Some have returned to their homes and some still don't want to go home. During Ramadan, parents rarely send their children to come home, especially when it is vacation time. Going home is usually just to take a shower. After that, go back out and hang out with friends, usually, there is a house that we go to together, a house where his parents are working. Such a house usually promises freedom.

In this house (it is impossible to mention the name) we usually play the Playstation without knowing the time until the afternoon. In this house also a small number of friends break their fast with various arguments. People say the devil is shackled in hell during the month of Ramadan, but in fact, the opposite is true, the devil is increasingly trying to persuade him to do what God has forbidden.

When evening came, almost all the children were playing outside. Almost every day we played futsal until the long whistle was heard (maghrib drum). We all went straight home, except for the person who last touched the ball, he has to carry out his responsibility to return the ball to the owner's house. An unwritten rule that always applies whether in the month of Ramadan or not.

After breaking the fast, only a few performed Maghrib prayers in the musholla, only those who were forced by their parents to go to the mosque. After breaking our fast and eating at home, we all gathered again before leaving for the prayer room. What is the goal? Worship? Not. Played? RIGHT!

As a child, it seemed that the place of worship was not a sacred place full of seriousness and solemnity, but a place where cheerful laughter was obtained even though it was wrapped in worship. Seriousness is only applied if a parent has scolded us, and that is only pretended seriousness because it is based on fear. Because if you are still joking, we must have received the spicy taste of the scolding. "Seriously, uncle, I never seem to be small," I thought.

Who doesn't laugh while sitting between two prostrations and pointing a finger suddenly a friend in the village gives a thumbs up and whispers "Hahaha, you lose, you're a loser". not to mention that someone made a circle with their forefinger and thumb and then moved it up and down on the pointing forefinger. The solemnity of worship is very difficult to achieve.

Vigilance in prayer must also be high because if you are careless it could be when you are bowing forward or when you are prostrate, your legs are pulled back so that you are just lying on your stomach and you get stifled laughter because if you let go of it, the fathers' scolding is raining down on us. Not to mention that some intentionally expect the wind from their buttocks, instead of being held back, they are released with pride. This not only invites the laughter of young children, but even adults also find it difficult to hold back their laughter.

Rarely do we follow the lowest prayer until it's over. At best, only participate in four or six rak'ahs. Of the few that some only follow when people arrive at the seat between the last two prostrations. Moreover, if the prayer priest has read a long letter, not yet four cycles, we all immediately rush out to play again.

Games during the curfew are more exciting than dawn because we no longer think about hunger and thirst. Firecracker war and sarong war with the opposite village are also often avoided, this is one of the most missed moments from childhood Ramadan. After being satisfied and tired of playing, then we all returned to our respective homes.

Indeed, childhood romance against Ramadan will not be invincible. In stark contrast, the reality is when you get older. There is no more acid in waking up at dawn because usually, you don't sleep until dawn. There is no more bitterness about holding back thirst and thirst because you usually sleep from after eating sahur until noon and even in the evening. Plus, as an adult, it is common to endure hunger and thirst when finances are being squeezed.

Everyone goes through the hustle and bustle of Ramadan activities not because of purely personal impulses when they were little, but an urge to get discounted rewards. Yes, merit. Maybe merit is the currency in the hereafter, therefore not a few people are competing to get it to live happily in the future, in the hereafter.