At the end of the two-hour afternoon class, the doctor asked. "All of you are fasting?"
Murmurs of inshaAllah.
"I'm fasting too." In the same smile and gentle tone he used since the beginning of class. Oh no I don't like where we're heading with this.
"I'm standing while you all are sitting," he continued with the gentle smile and his soft voice. "I'm physically and mentally exhausted while you're in your seat doing only one thing."
Sorry sir, so sorry sorry. Huhu. It was only the second day, and we haven't adapted to fasting since ten hours in this kind of heat. I was damn sleepy manifested by the illegible scrawls in my notebook, and I don't think I was the only one so.
But regardless of the circumstances, one should remain alert and participating in class. It was the only right thing to do since the doctor attended and committed to the class.
His gentle smile was unnerving. It was understanding with a try-harder-next-time slipped subtly. So sorry again, sir.
"See you next week. Ramadan kareem."
Urgh. Hurry up adapt, you.
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