At the weekend Bristol's Muslims celebrated the beginning of the fasting month of Ramadhan, joining the 1.5 billion Muslims worldwide. From sunrise to sunset, Muslims do not eat or drink anything at all.

And because Muslims follow a lunar calendar, which moves forward by 11 days every year, the month of Ramadhan goes through all four seasons more than once during the course of one's lifetime. So, in recent years, during the winter months when the days were short, the fast of Ramadhan was easy, but now that Ramadhan has moved into the long hot days of the summer months, it is becoming far more challenging.

It's already 16 hours long! That's a tough physical endurance by any standard. Next year it'll be even longer.

So why do Muslims do it?

Is it a penance for sins? No, not really. Is it a matter of discipline? Yes, a little. Is it a religious obligation? Yes, but the fact of the matter is that although all Muslims will be taking part, or seen to be taking part, no one truly knows whether another Muslim is fasting or not.

When no one else is around there is not a person, not a soul, not an entity on this planet that can stop me from eating and drinking all that I wish to.

The only reason I do not break my fast, no matter how hungry or thirsty I get, unless it affects my health, is; I know God is watching me. And that, in essence, is the purpose of the fast; to become more God-conscious and all that that implies.

For the other 11 months of the year, we are too busy, preoccupied with trying to keep up with the Mr and Mrs Jones of this world. They have new car; I need to get one. They have a new plasma screen; I need to get a bigger one. Regardless of how rich and poor we are here in the UK, we are always looking at what we don't have and others do. All the while, taking everything we do have (even a little) for granted.

When you fast, having suffered the hunger and thirst of the day, with patience and forbearance, when the time comes at the end of the day, to break your fast, something remarkable happens: you realise that you can break your fast.

There is food to eat. There are lots of different kinds of drink to quench your thirst. And you suddenly become grateful for the blessings in the basic things, like food and drink, the things we don't even think about ordinarily; when you want a sandwich, snack or drink, you will not give it a second thought; you will simply go and get it – you will even ask others if you can get them anything while you are there. When you are fasting you will think more than twice about it.

But Ramadhan is not just about abstaining from food and drink; it's about doing all the good we can; it's about being grateful for the time we are given, for life; it's about turning off the TV, and doing something better; it's about being better human beings.

For some though, the fast is a chore, a burden.

They fast, but there is no change for the better in their behaviour; they fast, but remain impatient. Some even put on weight during this month.

It is about them that the Prophet Muhammad said 'some people learn nothing from the fast, except hunger and thirst'.

I hope to be among those who do better.