Manoj Kumar Pathak
Ramadaan, the sacred month of fasting for Muslims, has a unique cultural and linguistic significance that spans centuries, blending religious practices with local customs. In India, this month is not just a period of abstinence from food but also a time for self-reflection, spiritual growth, and community solidarity. However, alongside the traditional rituals of fasting, a fascinating debate arises every year: Is it “Ramazan” or “Ramadaan”? This small linguistic discrepancy has sparked considerable discussion among both scholars and the common folk. But what does this debate truly reflect about the interplay of language, religion, and culture?
The onset of Ramazan marks a time when the streets come alive with the hum of preparation. From sehri to iftar, from the evening prayers of Taraweeh to the silent, introspective fasts during the day, the atmosphere is charged with spiritual fervor. But alongside these, there is also an ongoing debate – should one say Ramazan or Ramadaan?
A friend of mine, with a certain rigor in his tone, once corrected me when I wished him “Ramazan Mubarak.” He immediately insisted, “No, it should be Ramadaan, not Ramazan.” It led to a deeper conversation, where I shared that I had grown up hearing “Ramazan” in my family, just as even Kabir Das, the mystic poet, had used the word “Roza” in his dohas (poetry) centuries ago. I was intrigued when my friend insisted that “Ramadaan” was the correct term. He argued that “Ramazan” was an Urdu term borrowed from Persian, while “Ramadaan” was the original Arabic form. But I couldn’t help but wonder why this sudden push for linguistic purity? And did it even matter?
The term “Ramadaan” comes from the Arabic root “Ramad,” meaning “extreme heat” or “scorching sun.” This word signifies the intense period of fasting, symbolizing spiritual heat and purification. This heat is not just physical, but metaphorical—burning away sins and impurities. Interestingly, while “Ramadaan” remains the widely accepted term in the Arab world, its variation, “Ramazan,” has deep cultural roots in the Indian subcontinent.
Historically, the word “Ramadaan” became more commonly used among Pakistanis working in the Gulf states, especially after the 1980s when the rise of Saudi influence permeated the social fabric. In this era, linguistic changes began to occur across borders. Similarly, after the Islamic Revolution in Iran, the use of “Ramadaan” became even more pronounced, as Arab traditions gained ground in everyday speech. Thus, the shift from “Ramazan” to “Ramadaan” became not only a linguistic but also a cultural and political phenomenon.
But the fascinating part here is that this transition wasn’t just about linguistic purism—it also reflected a shift in the ideological undercurrents of the Muslim world. The increasing political influence of Saudi Arabia, especially during General Zia-ul-Haq’s regime in Pakistan, led to a cultural drift towards Arab-centric practices, including language. But in India, this wasn’t immediately accepted, as the Indian Muslim community had long been accustomed to a Persianized version of Islam, and thus the use of “Ramazan” still resonates deeply with many.
Phonetic Variations and Their Cultural Relevance
A crucial part of this linguistic debate revolves around phonetics. The Arabic language has certain sounds that are absent in languages like Hindi, Urdu, and English. For example, the Arabic “D” (د) sound is softer in the Persian-Urdu variant, where it becomes a “Z” (ز). Therefore, in Indian subcontinental usage, it became “Ramazan” as opposed to “Ramadaan.” This phenomenon isn’t isolated to just this term. There are numerous such adaptations when Arabic words enter the local linguistic fabric.
Take the case of the word “Pepsi.” In Arabic, the ‘P’ sound doesn’t exist, so the term becomes “Bebsi.” Similarly, the ‘V’ in words like “vinegar” transforms into “F” in Arabic. These phonetic shifts reflect the complexities and adaptability of language, showing how the Arabic language has been integrated and altered by local influences over centuries.
The essence of Ramazan—or Ramadaan, for that matter—transcends linguistic nuances. It is about the shared experience of fasting, prayer, reflection, and charity. Muslims across the world understand that this is not merely a physical act of abstinence but a deeply spiritual and purifying experience. The very act of fasting (sawm) is meant to cleanse the soul, drawing the believer closer to God. During this time, the Qur’an, believed to be revealed during this month, is recited more diligently, with the hope of attaining a closer connection to Allah.
In Islamic tradition, fasting serves as an avenue for self-control, and the discipline involved helps in developing empathy for those less fortunate. Zakat, or charity, is another vital aspect of this month, emphasizing the need to give to the poor and strengthen communal ties.
The Unity of Religion and Language
It is worth noting that Ramazan’s linguistic debates often obscure the larger theme of religious unity. Whether one calls it “Ramadaan” or “Ramazan,” the core idea remains the same: a time for self-purification, charity, and spirituality. In the broader context, the differences in pronunciation across regions—be it between Hindi-speaking, Urdu-speaking, or English-speaking Muslims—reflect the diversity of Islamic practices around the world. Language, like religion, evolves and adapts, but its core remains unchanged.
This evolution of language also mirrors the adaptability of religious practice. Just as the different dialects of Arabic, Persian, and Urdu coexist within the Islamic world, so too do the various customs surrounding Ramadan. Whether it is the method of breaking the fast, the kind of food served during iftar, or the recitation of prayers, these practices vary from region to region, but all point toward the same spiritual goal.
As someone who has experienced Ramadan in both urban and rural settings, and interacted with Muslims across different parts of India, I can’t help but reflect on the personal significance of this month. I remember attending an Iftar party in Lucknow once, where the dishes served were a delightful combination of Mughal and Awadhi delicacies. As the evening progressed, I realized how language and food have a unique way of bringing people together, even amid the smallest differences.
It was during that Iftar that I had the aforementioned conversation with my friend regarding “Ramadaan” and “Ramazan.” The humor that arose out of our linguistic banter seemed trivial at first but soon deepened into a reflection on how our language shapes our perception of religion and culture. Perhaps it was this very ability to merge the sacred and the mundane, the traditional and the modern, that made the month of Ramazan truly special.
Embracing Differences
In the end, whether we call it “Ramadaan” or “Ramazan,” whether we prefer saying “Roza” or “Sawm,” what matters most is the shared experience of spirituality, reflection, and community. Language, much like religion, is a living entity—one that evolves and adapts to the societies it inhabits. In embracing these differences, we not only honor the diversity of the Muslim world but also reflect the broader pluralism of our society. Just as the fasts during Ramazan are meant to purify and unite, so too can our shared linguistic heritage, if we allow ourselves to embrace it with understanding, respect, and a sense of humor.
As the holy month of Ramazan unfolds this year, let us remember that the true essence lies not in the pronunciation of a single word but in the intention behind it. Whether it is “Ramadan Mubarak” or “Ramazan Mubarak,” what matters is the spirit of unity, reflection, and charity that binds us all together. Let’s embrace the richness of our language and culture, knowing that, at the heart of it, we are all fasting for the same purpose—to purify our hearts and our deeds.
