Interfaith iftars, the flavour of Ramadan
- Dean Lobo
- Jun 22, 2018
- 4 min read
Updated: Jan 16, 2019
A group of Muslim women decided to dispel apprehensions around Islam by hosting an interfaith meal during Ramadan
If you grew up in a multicultural environment – for example, in a building where people gathered around the altar of Lord Ganesha and the Christmas tree with equal elation, awaited Khadija Aunty’s sheer khurma (vermicelli pudding), or the mitthi sev (a sweet preparation that uses strands of gram flour) from Mrs Dalal’s kitchen during Eid and Navroz respectively – chances are, you may not identify with what’s to follow. We apologize.
While you grew up among these differences – of language, food, and lifestyles – considering them completely “normal”, times have changed. Thanks to our busy lives, we all seem to be sporting blinders, indifferent to each other’s differences. Not to forget the tumult of bans on food now (in India). One can rant and protest, but one can also create occasions for people to convene and understand one another, as is the case with a group of Muslim women in Noida, India, who hosted an interfaith iftar (the meal traditionally eaten after sunset during Ramadan) in early June.
It started with a Facebook post by speaker, author and entrepreneur, Nazia Erum, one of the hostesses. She shares, “During research for my book, Mothering a Muslim, I realized how little Indians knew about Muslims and their customs. A survey by the Centre for the Study of Developing Societies (CSDS) also showed how only 33 per cent Hindus considered a Muslim among their close friends. This led me to realize that the rest might not have even attended an iftar.” Nazia’s post asked if there was anyone who hadn’t been to an iftar before. It was an open invitation to an iftar party. Expecting three to four responses, she was flooded with over 30. Just when the task of hosting so many people suddenly seemed daunting, other Muslim women connected to pitch in. Someone let out their house, while others agreed to cook," says Nazia.
In the end, there were 12 women who hosted the evening, of which Nazia only knew four personally.
Many travelling from Gurgaon and Delhi to Noida for the iftar were visiting a Muslim household for the first time. “No one giggled or spoke at first. They sat upright. But soon, not only did I see, but I also heard apprehensions being dispelled. Guests were surprised to see vegetarian food on the table, while others were in awe of how well articulated we were,” recalls Nazia. One of the guests, Gauri Sarin, says, “For the 20-odd years that I’ve been into executive search, I’ve found a countable number of Muslims walking in for senior positions. But here were women, all achievers – authors, teachers, historians, pilots, bikers, journalists, lawyers and food entrepreneurs.” What stood out for Gauri was meeting so many like-minded Muslim women, but the fact that we don’t meet them often. Through the meal, she was also able to see how the purpose of fasting was so common to her own beliefs of the same.
“I would love to see Hindus throw an iftar party for Muslims, and this is something I’m going to do next year,” says Gauri.
While these gatherings seem to be gaining ground, others say that iftars have always been this way. Pune resident, hair and makeup artist Saba F Poonawala, says, “For as long as I can remember, it has always been an open house at my place. If someone couldn’t make it for some reason, we’d even send food boxes home.” Ria Nadkarni, who belongs to an inter-religious youth group, also recalls relishing modaks (stuffed sweet dumplings) and sheer khurma at its Eid-cum-Ganesh Chaturthi celebration in 2010, when the two festivals almost coincided. So what’s new or different, one might ask. Nazia says, “We’ve always invited friends and neighbours, but the need now to is go beyond those who accept us, and include people who’ve never attended an iftar before.”
Beyond iftars, the closest example of community sharing is the Ramzan food trails that have been taking place in cities across India. Jayesh Paranjape, who conducts such food walks in Pune, says, “These trails provide a chance to understand people and their food culture, and change perceptions. 10 people joined me this time. We got to sample cuisines ranging from Afghan to Turkish. We returned feeling enriched at the thought of having tried something new.”
And in times when politics doesn’t seem to spare food as well, pop-up meals have been serving as the perfect means to break barriers and forge ties. Throughout Ramadan, people have been travelling from across town to visit Pune home chef Rizwana Yusuf’s house for her Bohri iftar. “Most diners who visit have never sat around the thaal (a huge plate that people eat from collectively) before. I get questions from them, about how we break our fast, and the concept of the thaal, and it’s nice explaining the various customs related to the meal, such as why we begin with salt, and the reason for alternating between ‘mithas’ (sweet) and ‘kharas’ (savoury),” says Rizwana. Aneesh Dhairyawan, co-founder of Authenticook, a collective that organizes such experiences, is of the opinion that food is capable of being a great unifying factor today. “What people are craving for today is an experience — a chance to understand a community’s culture through its food. There’s magic when people sit across the table and share a meal," says Aneesh.
Biases and prejudices wither away when we learn to understand and respect the community and its nuances through food.
By the time you finish reading this, interfaith iftars would have taken place in Mumbai, Delhi, Hyderabad, Guwahati and Pune, including one at a blind school and one for underprivileged girls. And we hope this beautiful tradition makes a comeback, be it during Ganesh Chaturthi, Onam or Christmas.
This article was written for and published in The Times of India.
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