… a time of anxiety as you ring around to find out when the fast begins; is it Friday or Saturday - but always surprised how your local halal butcher always seem to predict the right day to start the fast in the free Ramadan timetable he distributes!

… working out whether the time to break fast is 20:11 or 20:13.

… dreaming about Iftar, entertaining visions of cool milk, sweet dates, delicious curries, steaming rice, gooey sweet cakes, crunchy crisps, wicked chocolates, etc, then when the time comes finding that after the milk and dates you don’t really feel like eating anything else!

… compulsively reading cook books to while away the hours.

… when you rediscover the elasticity of time.

… attending bunfights at sundown in the mosque.

… sitting out on the porch on a balmy London night, listening to the rumble of tube trains in the distant, putting the world (or at least the Ummah) to rights before fajr.

… going to Sainsbury’s on the first day of the month full of good intentions to buy salads and low fat yoghurts and the like… and watching in disbelief and dismaying as one spouse fills with biscuits, gateaux, swiss rolls and other caloriferous goodies.

… craving Farley’s rusks and Milupa gloop. You might be fasting but the infant contingent still needs regular pit stops.

… fending off questions, comments and taunts (good natured and otherwise) about ‘starving yourself’ from every non-Muslim within a given radius.

… maintaining a respectful distance from everybody because of what is politely known as the ‘ramadan syndrome’ (we are talking halitosis, folks!) whilst reminding ourselves that it pleases Allah and that is all that matters.

… the annual tedious debates about ‘our we allowed to use toothpaste when we are fasting?’ etc.

… wondering why no one ever talks about fasting including control of one’s tongue and one’s temper, because all of us need reminding about how to treat one another.

… a three-day mega migrane until the body adjusts to life without tea during daylight hours.

… clock watching like never before.

… a jolly good excuse to buy new togs! (For Eid!)

… unbearable suspense as we wait to see who starts fasting when.

… comparing notes: ‘when did you start fasting?’

… mounting frustration as the Ummah fails to get its act together year after year and Eid lasts anything up to a week.

… surprise when Auntie Beeb puts on any kind of program for Ramadan – at the unearthly hour of 3am.

… hoping that my spiritual batteries will be recharged; they need it!

… renewed forgetfulness for the mercy and blessings of the Holy Qur’an, first revealed in this month.

… a sense of it being a special time, a month of grace, and an opportunity to draw nearer to our creator.

And when it is all over…

… a sadness that we have to go back to ‘normal’, wishing that the special feeling of Baraka and brotherhood we feel in Ramadan were normal all year round.

… a sense of loss, remembering how better you could have utilised the opportunities available to you during the blessed month.

And praying that you will be there again, alive, and kicking, when the month returns next year.

Finally it is Eid day: of course you and the family (especially the kids) are all dressed but there is, again, nowhere to go except to the out-laws. Loads of food but the price is to listen to the same old jokes and stories.

Anyway, Ramadan Mubarak.