When Twenty Roza Feel Like Yesterday: A Reflection Before the Last Ten Nights

WHEN TWENTY FASTS SEEMS LIKE A BLINK OF AN EYE.

Ramadan always arrives with a feeling that’s difficult to put into words.The first night comes quietly. The alarm for suhoor rings earlier than usual, and the house feels different somehow—calmer, softer, almost sacred. You take that sip of water before the Azaan for the first fast of the month and somewhere deep inside, a quiet thought forms: Alhamdulillah… Ramadan is here.

There is something special about the first fast/roza.

The first iftar.

The first Taraweeh.

At the beginning of Ramadan, the whole month stretches out in front of us like a long road filled with opportunity.

We tell ourselves that this time will be different.

We’ll read more Qur’an.

We’ll make more dua.

We’ll control our anger, be more mindful of Allah, and try to become better than we were before the month began.

But then something unexpected happens.

Ramadan begins to move faster than the rest of the year.

One day passes.

Then another.

Then suddenly an entire week is gone.

Before you really notice it, you glance at the calendar and realize something that feels almost impossible: Twenty fasts are already behind us.

It honestly feels like just yesterday we were preparing for the first roza. Yet somehow we’ve already reached the door of the last ten days.

Maybe this Ramadan feels even faster than the ones before it.

In earlier years, Ramadan arrived during holidays. Life felt slower then.

There was more time to sit before iftar, more time to linger in the masjid, more quiet moments between the fast and the night prayers.

This year feels different.

There are exams to study for.

Classes to attend.

Assignments waiting.

Deadlines approaching.

The days feel shorter, the nights feel fuller, and Ramadan seems to slip through our fingers before we’ve fully taken hold of it.

But perhaps that’s one of Ramadan’s quiet lessons.

Time never waits.

Just as the first twenty days passed in what feels like the blink of an eye, the last ten will pass even faster.

And those last ten days are the most precious days of the entire month.

These are nights when hearts soften a little more easily.

Nights when people raise their hands in dua with a little more sincerity. Somewhere in the world, during one of these nights, a servant of Allah whispers a prayer that changes the course of their life.

Among these nights is Laylatul Qadr — a night better than a thousand months.

A single night that can carry the reward of a lifetime. These are the nights when we ask Allah for something greater than anything this world can offer: forgiveness, mercy, and freedom from the Hellfire.

WHEN RAMADAN FEELS LIKE ITS SLIPPING AWAY.

At this stage of the month, many people quietly feel the same thought:

Why and How is Ramadan passing by too quickly?

Because Maybe we planned to read more Qur’an.

Maybe we wanted to wake up every night for Qiyaam-ul-layl or Tahajjud.

Maybe we hoped this Ramadan would become our turning point.

But life doesn’t pause just because Ramadan has arrived.

Responsibilities continue. Studies demand attention. Fatigue sometimes wins.And that’s okay.

Ramadan was never meant to be a burden of impossible expectations. It’s a path built on small, sincere steps.

Sometimes the most powerful acts of worship are the simplest ones.

A quiet “Astaghfirullah” whispered while walking to class.Sending durood upon the Prophet ﷺ while waiting for iftar.

Reading a few verses of the Qur’an between tasks – Even if its just the 4 Qul.

Choosing patience instead of anger.

Helping your parents prepare iftar.

Offering a kind word or a sincere smile.

These are the kinds of deeds people rarely notice. But they are never unnoticed by Allah.

Even the busiest day can become filled with reward if the heart remembers Him.

TURNING ORDINARY MOMENTS INTO IBADAH.

One of the beautiful lessons Ramadan teaches us is that worship doesn’t only live in long prayers or extended nights in the masjid.

It can live inside ordinary moments.

Studying for exams with the intention of fulfilling responsibilities.

Helping your parents around the house.

Being patient when fasting makes you tired.

Choosing honesty, kindness, and good character.

When intentions are sincere, everyday actions slowly turn into acts of worship.

Even the moments before iftar can become something special.

Those quiet seconds—hands raised, heart hopeful like small babies—are among the times when duas are most readily accepted.

The moments between the adhan and iqamah.

The duaa after each salah.

The stillness of the late night.

They may seem small, but they open the door to enormous mercy.

Among the most beautiful supplications for the last ten nights is a short dua the Prophet ﷺ taught to Aisha (RA).When Aisha (RA) asked the Prophet ﷺ:“O Messenger of Allah, if I know which night is Laylat al‑Qadr, what should I say in it?” He ﷺ replied:

“Allahumma innaka ‘afuwwun tuhibbul ‘afwa fa‘fu ‘anni”

اللَّهُمَّ إِنَّكَ عَفُوٌّ تُحِبُّ الْعَفْوَ فَاعْفُ عَنِّي

O Allah, You are Most Forgiving, and You love to forgive, so forgive me.

Such a short dua, yet filled with immense meaning.

It’s easy to repeat again and again—while walking, sitting, studying, or lying awake in the quiet moments of the night.

Sometimes the most life-changing prayers are the simplest ones.

THE BEAUTY OF BEGINNING AGAIN.

If the first twenty days of Ramadan passed quickly.

If we feel we could have done more.

Ramadan still offers us something incredibly generous:The chance to begin again.

The last ten days aren’t meant to remind us of what we missed. They are an invitation to what still remains.

An invitation to slow down for a moment in a fast-moving world.

To open the Qur’an—even if it’s just for a few verses.

To raise our hands in dua a little longer.

To forgive someone.

To soften our hearts.

To return to Allah sincerely.

Because when Ramadan finally leaves—and it will leave sooner than we expect—we won’t remember the rush of our schedules or the pressure of our routines.

What we will remember are the quiet moments between us and Allah.

The dua we made in the darkness of the night.

The verse of Qur’an that touched our heart.

The moment we chose patience over anger.

The moment we whisper,

“Allahumma ajirni minan naar”

اللَّهُمَّ أَجِرْنِي مِنَ النَّارِ

O Allah, protect/save me from the fire (Hell).

BEFORE RAMADAN SAYS GOODBYE.

When twenty days can pass in the blink of an eye, the last ten will pass even faster.

But within those ten days may be a single night.

A single prayer.

A single moment of sincerity.

And sometimes one sincere moment with Allah can outweigh months—even years—of heedlessness.

So perhaps the goal for the final days of Ramadan isn’t to do everything.

Perhaps the goal is simply this: Do not let them pass unnoticed.

Fill them with small acts of goodness.

Quiet remembrance.

Sincere duas.

Hearts that turn back to their Creator.

Because within these nights may lie a moment that changes everything.

And that moment might be closer than we think.