Ramadan

Ramadan, the Islamic month of fasting, appears in the novel as a time of communal observance and personal trial, marking Mariam's first experience of shared religious practice in Kabul and later serving as a backdrop for Rasheed's escalating cruelty and the family's deepening hunger.

First Ramadan in Kabul

In the fall of 1974, Mariam, then fifteen years old and newly married to Rasheed, experienced Ramadan for the first time in a city. She saw how the sighting of the new crescent moon could transform an entire city, altering its rhythm and mood. A drowsy hush overtook Kabul: traffic became languid, shops emptied, restaurants turned off their lights, and no smokers or cups of tea appeared on the streets. At iftar, when the sun dipped in the west and the cannon fired from the Shir Darwaza mountain, the city broke its fast, and so did Mariam, with bread and a date, tasting for the first time the sweetness of sharing in a communal experience. This was a stark contrast to her isolated life in the kolba outside Gul Daman, where she had only known the holiday through Jalil's brief visits and Mullah Faizullah's gifts of chocolate and dyed eggs.

Rasheed's Non-Observance and Cruelty

Except for a handful of days, Rasheed did not observe the fast. When he did, he came home in a sour mood; hunger made him curt, irritable, and impatient. One night, when Mariam was a few minutes late with dinner, he started eating bread with radishes and refused to touch the rice and lamb okra qurma she had prepared, even after she put it in front of him. He said nothing, his temples working, the vein on his forehead full and angry, and he went on chewing and staring ahead, looking at her without seeing her face. Mariam was relieved when Ramadan ended. This pattern of Rasheed's harshness during the month foreshadowed the violence that would later define their marriage.

Ramadan as a Time of Hardship

In later years, during the Taliban era and the drought, Ramadan became a period of intensified suffering. The family's poverty meant that even the simple act of breaking the fast with a proper meal was a luxury. The hunger that Mariam and Laila endured was a constant, crushing presence. Mariam remembered something Mullah Faizullah used to say about hunger when Ramadan started: "Even the snakebitten man finds sleep, but not the hungry." This aphorism captured the relentless, sleepless agony of their deprivation. The month, once a source of communal joy for Mariam, became a symbol of the unending trials of their lives.

The Kolba's Ramadan

Before her marriage, Mariam's experience of Ramadan was shaped by the kolba. The holiday of Eid-ul-Fitr that followed Ramadan was a time of dread for her. Jalil would visit, dressed in a suit and tie, bearing Eid presents, but he would then excuse himself to celebrate with his "real family." Mullah Faizullah would bring her chocolate candy wrapped in foil, a basketful of dyed boiled eggs, and cookies. After he was gone, Mariam would climb one of the willows with her treats, eating the chocolates and dropping the foil wrappers until they lay scattered about the trunk like silver blossoms. Yet, despite these small pleasures, she dreaded Eid, this time of hospitality and ceremony, when families dressed in their best and visited each other. She would imagine the air in Herat crackling with merriness, and a forlornness would descend on her like a shroud, lifting only when Eid had passed. This early association of the holy month with loneliness and exclusion foreshadowed the isolation she would later endure in her marriage.