Step 1: Talk to moron friend till late in the night over the phone, claiming confidently that no matter how late you sleep, you're up on the dot, unfailingly (like any normal man's morning woody) in time to eat food lavishly.
Step 2: Forget that Murphy is a b******, and that he has a law for this sort of overconfidence and cockiness too: "The later and cockier you sleep, the later you'll get up and the more screwed you'll be."
Step 3: Get startled out of deep slumber by a call from Mom, asleep thousands of miles away (as if) in the next room.
Step 4: Look at watch and go *#$%&*#^$%!*
Step 5: Realise that there's hardly any time left to eat, so contemplate only drinking water and fasting. And then listen to Dad, and check the time table of sunrise and sunset. You have 15 minutes to heat and eat food. Hallelujah.
Step 6: You run to the kitchen, pull out plates and spoons, head back to the dining table, pull out stuff from the fridge...
Step 7: ... shovel it onto your plate and start eating furiously.
Step 8: Follow this simple technique to cram as much food as possible in the eight minutes left - lift hand, shove it in mouth, chew twice, swallow, lift hand, shove it in mouth, chew twice, swallow, lift hand... Ignore the temperature of the food. 4:42 a.m is freezingly cold enough, so 12-degree food should be the least of your concerns.
Step 9: Eat till the last note of the last call for prayer reverberates in the early morning air.
Step 10: Somehow manage to drink lots of water in between.
Congratulations, you will not be fasting to death today!
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