By George Bahgory Click for a bigger image My friend was hanging the Ramadan lantern, fanous, at the gateway of our alley, a job he does with meticulous care every year. Satisfied with his handy work, he turned to me. "You make all those drawings of Ramadan, and obviously you love the atmosphere so much. But this month has a great meaning as well." "I like the equality between the rich and the poor in Ramadan, for both have to wait in patience for the iftar cannon to break their fast, or the call of the mesahharati to have their sohour," I replied. "Not enough, Ramadan is much deeper than that." "You mean the piety, generosity, prayers," I offered helpfully, and my friend launched into a long account of the qualities people who fast presumably acquire in Ramadan. "Lovely, but you know what? Ramadan's fanous shines in my heart, and that is stronger than everything." He looked at me, quizzingly, then glanced back at his luminous piece of art, now dangling proudly overhead. "Would you like some konafa?" he said.
