March 2026 :: Ramadan and Eid

March 1

Spring seems to be knocking on Frankfurt's door. After weeks of grey skies and cold winds, today the sun finally showed up, soft and warm and very welcome.

MB, your mother, and I went for a walk in the nearby forest, letting the gentle sunlight filter through the trees. It was exactly the kind of afternoon the soul needed. MB left a little after.

Your mother seemed lighter today, a welcome change after the heavy weeks of worry around her diabetes. She got on the phone with a few friends and talked for nearly two hours, laughing and chatting in a way I hadn't heard in a while. It was good to see her like that again, relaxed, joyful, herself.

March 2

Good news today. Your mother finally found an available slot for her university exam. She will travel to Halle this Saturday and return on Monday. I won't be able to accompany her due to work. Another short separation, but this time with a clear purpose at the end of it. We are both hoping for the best.

March 3

I worked from home today. Your mother had another ultrasound at the Uniklinikum, a routine follow-up as part of her diabetes monitoring.

Alhamdulillah, everything looks good overall. There is one small note though: your weight is slightly below the expected range, approximately 10% underweight. The doctor didn't seem particularly alarmed, and honestly, neither are we. You are growing, you are moving, and you are here. We will keep an eye on it, feed your mother well, and trust that you will catch up in your own time.

March 6

Your mother is buckling down hard for her exam. The familiar pre-exam panic has set in, as it always does with her, but I have full confidence she will pass.

Every time the anxiety creeps in, I remind her of something I truly believe: you are studying with a baby in your womb. Every lecture attended, every page read, every late night spent preparing, you were there through all of it. If that doesn't raise a resilient child, I don't know what will.

So in a way, my son, you are already sitting this exam together.

March 7

She left for Halle this morning. I dropped her off at the station, watched her board, and made my way back to an empty apartment.

Hopefully this is the very last time we say goodbye at a platform before you arrive, my son.

March 9

She passed. Not just passed, she scored a 1.3, one of her best grades yet. The same person who was convinced she would fail walked out of that exam hall with flying colors. I had to laugh. All that panic, all that worry, and she absolutely nailed it.

She boarded the train straight after and was home by early afternoon. I couldn't have been prouder.

March 12

I felt you again tonight.

We were getting ready for bed when your mother turned to me and asked, "Do you want to feel the baby? He's kicking." I reached over and placed my hand on her belly, and almost immediately, you kicked. Firm, clear, and instant, as if you had been waiting for exactly that moment.

Were you waiting for your father's touch?

March 15

Your Nani had her visa interview today. If everything goes smoothly and the visa comes through, we are planning to bring her here by May 15th. She will be here to take care of you and your mother, to hold you, to fuss over you, to do all the things only a grandmother can do.

Fingers crossed!

March 16

It seems you have already started playing games with us, my dear.

Yesterday, while we were watching television, your mother mentioned that she could feel you kicking inside. Every time she placed her hand on her belly, you responded immediately. But the moment she asked me to put my hand there, everything went completely still. Not a single move.

A little hide and seek, perhaps?

I see you, little one. And I have a feeling this is only the beginning of a lifetime of you keeping us on our toes.

March 19

Ramadan ends today. Tomorrow is Eid ul Fitr, and the air already feels festive.

Your chacha traveled to Frankfurt to celebrate Eid with us, and he didn't come empty handed. Your Dida and Nani sent maternity clothes for your mother and some homemade food, a little taste of home carried across the distance. But the most surprising gift came from your chachi.

She sent Eid gifts not just for the two of us, but for you too. Your very first Eid gift, from your loving chachi. Thank you, dear chachi. I haven't met you yet, but I already love you deeply.

We have already begun preparing for tomorrow's potluck. We are expecting around 15 guests, 18 including us. The kitchen is busy, the excitement is real, and this Eid already feels different from any before it.

March 20

Eid Mubarak, my son. Your very first Eid.

Your chacha and I went to the Bangladeshi mosque in the morning for Eid prayers. From 10 AM onward, guests began arriving one after another. By lunchtime, our flat was buzzing with laughter, conversation, and the most wonderful aromas drifting from the kitchen. We sat down to an absolutely delicious Eid spread, the kind of meal that warms not just the stomach but the whole soul.

In the afternoon we stepped out for a short walk and did a little Eid photoshoot together. Then in the evening, one of your uncles pulled out a guitar. He played, and the rest of us sang along with our best bathroom voices, completely off-key and completely happy.

What a day, my son. What a beautiful, loud, warm, joyful day. This is the world that is waiting for you.