My favorite part of hearing the athan for every prayer back in Lahore was that it naturally dimmed the hustle and bustle of life. Conversations in the home gradually hushed and family members slowly dispersed; women raised their dupattas to cover their heads and children quietly stopped playing. Eventually one member of the family began prayer and others followed afterwards here and there, in their own rooms, in their private quarters. Only when the brief break for prayer was over did everyone resume their usual lives- conversations grew louder, laughter lifted into the air, the television was turned on.
The athan was a natural break in each segment of the day, signaling the end of one and the beginning of another; and the brief respite we sought from our lives during each call is something I appreciate and miss a lot.