Night runners of Cairo

Ramadan has come and gone taking with it some of the sights and sounds of Egypt. What is left behind is only the vestiges of a society that is reluctantly having to come to terms with resuming normal life again.

Ramadan is understood to take its toll on people whether in India or in Iran, but nowhere else is it as hefty as in Cairo! An expanded waistline, a constricted bank balance and adapting oneself to the 9-5 office hours again, are but a few.

During the holy month of Ramadan, believers deny themselves food and drink from dawn to dusk. The period of fasting and abstention is believed to train oneself in the art of self-control. But by afternoon, everything and everyone gears towards 'iftar,' the evening's fast breaking meal.

Traffic starts clogging the streets, women busy themselves with last minute bargains at the grocers while children take over side alleys to play football - supposedly to keep their minds off hunger. As the hour approaches, tempers start soaring, errant cab drivers get yelled at while those caught in the rear of the traffic let out their frustrations by honking.

Minutes before the fast breaking however, silence descends on the city. The streets are empty except for a lone car speeding home. Buses can be seen abandoned mid-road, some of them with their engines still running, the driver having spotted an iftar tent.

The spirit of Ramadan believes in lending a benevolent hand to the less fortunate. These colorful iftar tents are erected around mosques or town squares by volunteers, spurred on by the successes of their businesses and ventures.

The crowd on occasion includes a few of those who couldn't quite make it home on time. The meal laid out is very basic - rice, meat and some green vegetables but after an entire day of forced deprivation the sight of steaming food is overwhelmingly powerful. Quietly, they slip into seats acknowledging each other with a brief nod, a murmur of greeting, nothing more.

A canon fired from the citadel on the hills of Moqattom reverberates through the city, announcing the moment of iftar - a practice believed to have its origins in the 16 th century. This is followed by the muezzin's call for prayer from the thousand-odd minarets in Cairo.

Devotion gives way to appetite as hands reach out for the platter, pushing morsels into mouths. As one believer remarked, 'hunger has a different taste in the month of Ramadan.'

The calm that ensues is remarkable. In less than half an hour the tent is desolate, the chairs by now having been upturned on the tables, ready for the next day even as the embers of the cooking are yet to die.

In the more affluent neighborhoods of Cairo, the feasting however, continues. Though Ramadan specialties differ from one part of the world to the other, it is more or less on the lines of meat and rice, bread and salad.

Stuffed roast pigeons or roast lamb served with steamed rice, originally of the desert Bedouins, have now found their way into contemporary cuisine. Equally popular is the mahshi, essentially spiced rice and mince meat stuffed in any vegetable that is conducive to stuffing. And that will include eggplants, tomatoes, capsicum, sometimes even cabbage!

A brief interlude ensues when the family gathers around the television to watch Ramadan specials, an affair by no means less ritualistic. It is a lucrative month for TV advertisers with commercials competing with one another for the limited hours of prime time.

By now, it is time for sweets to make their rounds, more or less different forms of pastry, each sweeter than the other. Some with fruit and nut filling, others with cream and the rest are left soaking in sugar syrup.

By midnight, the streets more or less take on the look and feel of a riot, most of who return to their homes only in the wee hours of the morning. Not in any other part of the world, will one witness the spirit of Ramadan so fervent.

Just before dawn, in time for Sohour, the last meal before the fast begins, the 'mesaharaty' comes calling. Traditionally, the mesaharaties were men who walked the streets drumming and calling out to wake every household from their slumber. Sleepy heads and reluctant bodies are dragged to the table for yet another session of reparation.

By Anjana Das