What’s your favorite month of the year? Why?
A heartfelt journey through Shehrullah il Mo’azzam (Ramadan) and Ashara Mubaraka (Muharram) — the months that awaken my faith, deepen my gratitude, and reshape my inner world every single year.
The Two Months That Define My Year
When someone asks me, “What’s your favorite month of the year?” I can never give a one-word answer. It’s impossible. Because for me, it’s not just about a date on the calendar or a season I enjoy — my favorite months are moments of pure spirituality, inner cleansing, reflection, renewal, grief, hope, and a deep reconnection with my Creator and my faith.
I have two favorite months, not one:
1. Shehrullah il Haram (Ramadan)
2. Ashara Mubaraka (Muharram ul Haram)
Both months are different in experience but similar in depth — both reshape my heart and leave a permanent mark on my soul every single year. One lifts me through worship, mercy, discipline and purification. The other moves me through grief, remembrance, loyalty, and love. Together, these months are my compass — they bring me back to who I should be.
Why Shehrullah (Ramadan) Feels Like Coming Home
Ramadan is not just a month — it is an atmosphere, a lifestyle, a spiritual training ground, and a long-awaited reunion with the mercy of Allah. The moment the crescent is sighted, everything shifts inside me. The world doesn’t change — I do.
This is the month where I fast for 30 days, not just from food and water, but from distractions, ego, and negativity. Fasting humbles me — it reminds me that I am dependent, that I am blessed, and that gratitude isn’t meant to be spoken, but felt and lived.
Five times prayers become more meaningful. I don’t just pray because I have to — I pray because I want to. I crave that moment of stillness, that secret conversation with Allah where time slows down.
Then come the bihori (late night prayers) — the peaceful, intimate moments in the last part of the night when the world sleeps and the soul feels most awake. This is the time I feel closest to my Creator. The quiet feels sacred. My whispered duas feel like they are heard instantly.
And who could forget sihori — waking up in the early hours, sometimes sleepy but always excited, sharing food and smiles with family, friends, or even strangers. A simple glass of water feels priceless.
Iftar is not just about breaking the fast — it’s a celebration of discipline, patience, and faith. It is also a reminder that every blessing we enjoy is a gift we didn’t earn — Allah gave it to us out of His kindness.
But the true heart of Ramadan is the recitation of Al-Quran. When recited with sincerity, every verse feels like a healing balm, a personal message, a mirror. There are nights where one ayat can keep me awake, thinking, learning, changing.
Ramadan refreshes my soul from exhaustion I didn’t even know I was carrying. It resets my priorities. It pushes me to let go of grudges, forgive, give, help, and purify my thoughts and intentions. It makes me a better human being — or at least someone who tries harder.
The Emotional Depth of Ashara Mubaraka (Muharram ul Haram)
And then, just when I think my heart cannot stretch any further, Muharram arrives — not with the joy of Ramadan, but with the grief of remembrance and the honor of loyalty.
The first 10 days of Ashara Mubaraka are not ordinary days. They are a sacred commitment — a pledge of love and allegiance to Imam Hussain (AS), the grandson of Prophet Muhammad (SAW).
These days are filled with sabaks (teachings), waaz (sermons), bayans, marsiyas, and matam — all reminding us of the greatest sacrifice in human history. Imam Hussain did not die for power. He didn’t fight for land. He stood and sacrificed everything — including his children — so that truth would live on, so that Islam would remain pure, and so that humanity would learn the meaning of dignity.
In these days, even crying becomes worship.
Every tear shed out of remembrance, love, and grief for Imam Hussain (AS) is considered a blessing. The tears are not just emotional — they are spiritual. They wash the heart the same way wudu washes the body.
The majlis (gathering) is where the soul breaks down and rises again. The more you listen, the more you learn — about faith, courage, justice, freedom, sacrifice, and above all, love. There is no love like the love of Hussain. There is no loyalty like his. There is no tragedy like Karbala — yet there is no inspiration as powerful.
Spiritual Refreshment in Two Different Forms
Ramadan softens my heart while Muharram strengthens it.
Ramadan teaches me discipline. Muharram teaches me resilience.
Ramadan teaches me gratitude for Allah’s gifts. Muharram teaches me to honor Allah’s chosen ones.
Ramadan gives me peace. Muharram gives me purpose.
In Ramadan, I feel like a seeker.
In Muharram, I feel like a witness.
In both, I feel like a servant of Allah and a follower of His beloved Messenger and his Ahlulbayt.
What These Months Leave Behind
When Ramadan ends, I feel like I’ve been reborn. I feel cleaner inside. I feel wiser. I feel lighter.
When Ashara ends, I feel broken, but in the most beautiful way — like my heart was shattered just enough for light to enter. I feel humbled, grounded, and reconnected to the roots of my faith.
Every year, these months change me — and I hope they continue changing me for the rest of my life. They remind me that faith is not a ritual — it is a relationship. It is emotional, intellectual, and deeply personal.
Year After Year, My Answer Remains the Same
So yes, I have two favorite months. I can’t choose just one — because each month nourishes a different part of my soul.
Ramadan is the month that brings me closer to Allah.
Muharram is the month that brings me closer to the beloveds of Allah.
Together, they complete my year. Without them, time would feel empty.
These are the months where my actions align with my intentions, where my body may feel tired but my spirit feels alive, where my eyes fill with tears — sometimes out of love, sometimes out of loss — but always out of faith.
And that, to me, is the greatest blessing of all.
Final Reflection
Every person has a favorite time of the year — for some, it’s winter, for some, festival season, for others, their birthday. But for me, the most treasured days are those where I get a chance to revive and reshape my soul.
Ramadan and Muharram are not just months. They are mirrors that show me where I stand. They are teachers that guide me. They are reminders of who I want to be. And they are homes I return to, year after year, knowing I will leave better than I arrived.
If I could wish one thing for everyone, it would be that they also find a month in the year that changes them — the way these months change me.
Because once you experience that… you never look at the calendar the same way again.
