Sticky Note #1: Relationships take effort
Gratitude note: I had finalized this post before sharing my Substack on Instagram yesterday. It was all done and scheduled for publishing. I’m editing it to say THANK YOU to the 1000+ of you who subscribed within 12 hours only!
I was anxious all day before sharing the link. Even the kids felt something was off. Being mostly away from the public space for the past few years, I often question myself: 'Is anyone still interested in what I have to say?' Imposter Syndrome has been very real. But all of you put my doubts to rest. THANK YOU!
Clarification note: Since I was genuinely only expecting a handful of people to subscribe right away, I had not shared details of what to expect from my publication, 'This Season of Life.'
Consider this a 'soft launch,'which is specifically prompted by people who reach out to me every Ramadan to say they still revisit my Ramadan stories from a few years ago, or still go through the posts in the #FaithRefreshFridays series I used to do.
'Sticky Notes' will be a series where I compile and build on the faith-based write-ups I've shared over time. I know that not everyone may be interested in faith-based content, so I want to set the expectations right.
This series is free for all.
Later, 'This Season of Life' will be a parenting-focused publication with paid content. Stay tuned!
Let’s begin.
This post is meant to be about relationships. Specifically, my relationship with the Quran. Throughout my childhood, the start of Ramadan meant reciting at least one juz/sipara of the Holy Quran every day. My parents would say that it was the bare minimum of the 'extra' ibaadat (worship) I could do in the Holy Month. I admit, it’s quite shameful that I never opened the Quran the rest of the year. What should have been a daily practice became 'something special' reserved only for Ramadan.
If I’m being brutally honest, I never truly understood the purpose of completing a 'khatam' (reading the entire Quran) every year. It felt mindless and robotic. I didn’t understand Arabic, so I couldn’t comprehend what I was reading. The translations available at home were tedious and boring. To make things exciting, I’d time myself each day and try to beat my own record for how quickly I could recite one juz. Sometimes, I even skipped pages to finish faster. Later in life, when I started living independently for studies and work, I saw no point in continuing the practice.
I kept my fasts.
I prayed.
But there was no special connection with the Quran.
This went on for a few years until Ramadan of 2016. I had newly moved from Pakistan to Taif and it was my first Ramadan in Saudi Arabia. I had recently performed Umrah and I felt a strange pressure to spend Ramadan a certain way. I don’t know if it was built-up guilt from the past few years, my mother’s dua or just the fact that I was on a break from work and had a lot of time on my hands —I felt a strong tug to go back to the Quran.
So that’s what I did.
I can still close my eyes and almost feel the cool breeze of Taif coming through my bedroom window. There was spot in my room where I’d settle for the night and make notes while listening to a tafseer (exegesis) of Surah Baqarah. It was narrated like a story. And I like reading stories so it became my thing. I began to look forward to wrapping up my day and settling into the evening's lesson after Isha. This routine continued for a month. Day by day, the dots started connecting—the plot, the characters, the dialogues—it all began to make sense. It felt like I had found the missing puzzle piece.
That Ramadan of 2016, I did not recite one juz each day. I did not finish reading the Quran cover to cover by the end of the month. But I felt closer to the Book than I ever had. It did not feel strange anymore. Understanding it did not feel like a daunting task anymore. I felt more familiar with its language, more friendly with its content, and most importantly, more in love with its Writer.
That marked the beginning of a lifelong journey. For a few years after that, I immersed myself in online lectures on tafseer, seerah, and Islamic history. There was so much I didn’t know, and the online world offered a wealth of resources at my fingertips. I was spoilt for choice, always finding something new to watch or listen to. It was also the phase of life with little kids, so it was far more practical to listen to lectures while doing chores than to sit down with a book.
However, during this time, I completely lost touch with the mushaf (the physical, written copy of the Quran). It had been long since I had spent time reciting from it, let alone finishing it cover to cover. And gradually, that started bothering me.
.
In Ramadan of 2023, I went back to reciting Quran with the intention of doing a khatam. Just like I did as a child. Except this time, I did it out of pure desire to recite His Message in His words. Having been out of practice, the fluency of recitation has been affected and my speed had really slowed down. I was not able to complete a full round of recitation during Ramadan, but I made it a point to continue until I finished it. It took me over 2 months.
Since then, I have been cultivating the habit of opening the mushaf and reciting daily, even if it's just one page. The following Ramadan, I was able to do a khatam during the month. And this year, I managed to do a khatam outside of Ramadan as well. I finished the last juz just before sitting down to edit this post. With Ramadan 2025 starting tomorrow, I’m all set to start right from the beginning.
I had spent years feeling guilty for not experiencing that pull towards the Quran that I’m supposed to feel as a Muslim. I had to force myself from Fatihah to Nas, feeling no connection to the language on paper. Once that connection was developed, the very act of recitation that used to feel ‘mindless’, started feeling like something I was missing out on. Although I still couldn’t fully comprehend the meaning as I recited in Arabic, I could now taste the sweetness of recitation. I had gained an appreciation for its rewards and a reverence for its significance.
What once felt like a robotic act that I forced myself to do, now felt like an honor. What once seemed pointless, now felt like a source of bringing barakah into my life.
Here I am, ready to welcome my tenth Ramadan since that transformative one in Taif. I'm excited to complete another round of recitation and eager to delve into other parts of the Book. I've learned that it isn't an either/or between recitation and understanding, but rather a beautiful interplay where one deepens the craving for the other.
It all came full circle. I just had to put in the effort.
Because all relationships take effort.
‘This Season of Life’ is a passion project that has been brewing in my mind for a couple of years. I would love to hear if any of my writing sparks any thoughts, reflections, or actions for you. You can send me a message at @thespiceofadulting or email me at anumkamranahmad@gmail.com.