The Ramadan Moon | هلال رمضان
"Moon-sighting is contentious. She's the astronomer who settles the arguments. He's the imam who relies on her—and comes to rely on her for more."
The Ramadan Moon
هلال رمضان
Every Ramadan, the same arguments.
When is the moon visible? When does the fast begin? The ummah fights while the sky stays silent.
I'm the one who settles it.
I'm Dr. Farida.
Forty-three, astronomer at Cambridge, Muslim. The community consults me on hilal sighting.
Imam Hassan is my main contact.
He's fifty.
Leads the largest mosque in the Midlands. Traditional, scholarly, skeptical of scientific interference in religious matters.
"The Prophet watched the sky," he says.
"With human eyes. I watch with satellites."
"Is that better?"
"It's more accurate."
We argue every year.
Science versus tradition. Calculation versus sighting. Yet somehow, we keep working together.
"Why do you consult me if you don't trust science?" I ask.
"Because my congregation trusts you. And I trust them."
Ramadan approaches.
The calculations are clear—the moon will be visible at 7:43 PM, March 10th.
"You're certain?" he asks.
"Mathematics is certain. Faith has to work with it."
"That's either heresy or wisdom."
"Why not both?"
The sighting is successful.
The community fasts together, unified for once. Imam Hassan comes to thank me.
"You did good work."
"We did good work."
"I've been unfair to you," he admits. "To science."
"Growth is allowed."
We start meeting outside of moon business.
Coffee, discussions of faith and rationality. He's more thoughtful than I assumed.
"You challenge me," he says.
"Is that bad?"
"It's necessary. I've been comfortable too long."
"Why aren't you married?"
We're in his office. Moon charts spread between us.
"Because I prioritized career. Then family. Then community. Me came last."
"That's very... sacrificial."
"Or very lonely. Depends on the day."
"I could... offer companionship."
"Imam, that's forward."
"I'm fifty. Forward is all the time I have." He takes my hand. "Properly. Halal. Whatever you need."
"I need honesty."
"Then here's honesty: I've looked forward to moon-sighting season because of you."
We marry under the Ramadan moon.
The same one we've argued about for years. Now it witnesses our beginning.
"Happy?" he asks.
"Moonstruck."
"That's terrible."
"You married me anyway."
Our first night is gentle.
Two people who've spent years in orbits, finally colliding.
"Beautiful," he says.
"Hassan—"
"Let me worship you the way I worship during Ramadan."
Three years later
Every Ramadan, we watch together now.
The moon rising, the fast beginning. Science and faith united in our home.
"Best hilal?" he asks.
"The one that brought me you."
Alhamdulillah.
For moons that mark time.
For imams who grow.
For astronomers who find home.
The End.