That spiritual revelations, rebirths, and resolutions are the collective truths of Ramadan is a well known phenomenon for millions of Muslims throughout the world. That usual lifestyle and entertainment choices are willingly suspended or forgone in this month also is the norm.

Yet, in rediscovering (or newly discovering) familiar, simple modes of enjoyment, I wonder why Muslims often resume a non-Ramadan lifestyle as soon as the month is over. True, no one can deny that it would be difficult for the majority of Muslims to maintain that level of spirituality throughout the year. Indeed, according to Hadith, Ramadan is a time that Satan’s access to us is shut-off. The rest of the year our battle is much harder!

With that blessing, it’s just easier to turn our back on complacency and sketchy forms of entertainment this month. It’s easier and more pleasurable to seek enjoyment through family talk, social gatherings, the reading of the Qur’an and other religious texts. Why is it that the act of doing sahur (meal before fasting) and iftar (meal to break the fast) is recommended in Islam? And why have those simple meals evolved into time-honored cultural and family traditions? Simply because that is where the fun is!

It doesn’t matter where you’re from—Egypt, Malaysia, Puerto Rico, the United States or Spain—the familiar enjoyment of starting and breaking our fasts with fellow Muslims reaches across cultural and national lines. In fact, just seeking out fellow Muslims with a “Ramadan Mubarak!” greeting amplifies the joy and unity so closely associated with this month.

Here in New York City, where I’ve celebrated six Ramadans, the Muslim collective outreach is a joy to see. Who needs to escape in the banal pleasures of routine sitcoms and reality shows when you can find friends all around partaking in fasting and striving for the same level of togetherness, peace, and spirituality as you are?

Okay, perhaps I’m magnifying the enjoyment factor of Ramadan to a level of slight holiness, but bear with me here. Even the most cynical, complacent Muslim is transformed a bit when he or she chooses to obey the call to fast. I don’t care if you’re a Wall Street broker, an ICU physician, or a lonely student stranded in a non-Muslim society. There is a wonderful satisfaction in fasting and in breaking that fast at the same time, so to speak, as other Muslims around the world.

You don’t have to look long or hard to find that connection. One morning on the fifth day of Ramadan, sitting in my pediatrician’s waiting room with my daughter, I noticed another mother and her daughter. The mom wore hijab—sure sign she’s a Muslim I thought. I moved closer and opened a conversation about the children. Then, nearly simultaneously, we asked each other, “Are you Muslim?” Then, “Ramadan Mubarak!”

Her name was Rabab and she hailed from Egypt. Of course, stories came forth of the difficulties and fun of fasting with demanding little children, of getting up for sahur, dropping the kids off at school, taking care of babies at home, preparing the iftar, and sitting down as a family to break fast. From one Egyptian Muslim mother to one Indian-American Muslim mother, we concluded that it’s tiring, it’s hectic, and it’s a whole lot of fun.

A few days prior to that, I had hailed a taxi to take my son to his preschool. When one stopped, we got in and were on our way. I glanced at the name posted and saw that it was a Muslim one (Mustafa). I confirmed this by casually asking, “Are you Muslim?” I got a positive response followed by—you guessed it—a resounding “Ramadan Mubarak!” The cabbie was happy to have a Muslim in his backseat and was appreciative of my son’s tentative “As-sai-kum!””

New York Muslim cabbies—their enthusiasm for Ramadan makes for a whole new level of fun. Conversations with cab drivers are always a recipe for a short fun time, and during Ramadan that’s even more so. Many carry around their own personal supply of dates and iftar food. The majority though, look forward to the daily breaking of the fast at one of the numerous halal (permitted by Allah) restaurants in New York.

On the East Side of Manhattan, on the corner of Lexington Avenue and 28th Street, there’s a strip of restaurants, delis, halal meat stores, and video stores that has become a haven for New York cabbies. In normal times, their yellow cabs clog the streets as they stop by for take out. During Ramadan, it’s even more chaotic, as yellow cabs grab coveted street parking spots for blocks surrounding the “Muslim Indo-Pak strip” on Lexington. Little food dives like Haandi, Shaheen, Curry in a Hurry and Naimat Kada are replete with the fragrant aromas of puff pastry with meat or potato fillings; chickpeas cooked with tomatoes, onions, and spices; mounds of sweet dates; and hot tea—staples of a Manhattan quickie iftar.

In fact, an old article on MSN.com once chronicled the difficulty of hailing a cab during the precious hour of iftar and Maghrib (Sunset) Prayers in New York. The cabbies (the Muslim ones, that is) are all on a much-needed break!

In my own apartment building, we have our own small Muslim international community, with people hailing from Pakistan, India, Egypt, and Syria. Like the traditions of close-knit communities in the Middle East, we also partake in the sharing of iftars by holding communal weekly iftar parties. Frequently, we also bring old traditions to our lives by sharing a portion of whatever we’ve prepared for iftar with our fellow Muslim neighbors in the building.

The “I’ve just stopped by to drop this off for your iftar” often turns into an impromptu invitation to join together in breaking fast. And at the time of sahur, we fall back on the old traditions of our elders by calling each other in a reminder to get up! This year, upon waking up for the second fast, I proceeded to call my parents and brothers just to see what they were eating and to joke around. When does that happen during non-Ramadan months?

So, if you want to find enjoyment in this month, it’s surely out there in all aspects of what we do—from getting together to begin or end fasts, to greeting each other, to just talking more with each other instead of drowning in television or other standard forms of entertainment. It’s all out there in Ramadan—whether you’re in New York or Kuala Lumpur, or some small hick town in the United States (like where I grew up).

And if we are unable to carry this feeling throughout the year, then at least we can revel in it during this month: It surely is precious, this connection with Allah Most High and our fellow Muslims.

Dilshad D. Ali's  writing reaches across the United States to address lifestyle topics pertinent to Muslims and non-Muslims alike. Ali has covered movie premieres, film festivals, art exhibitions, concerts, and numerous other cultural stories, including the affect of September 11 on New York’s cultural landscape for IslamOnline. Ali, a 1997 University of Maryland journalism graduate, resides in New York with her husband and two children.