Eid morning has come and I’m abuzz with excitement. Since the crack of dawn I’ve been awake, listening to the sounds of the city coming alive around me. I bound out of bed, wash up, pray, and then head downstairs to breakfast. Voices from neighboring houses proclaim ‘Eid Mubarak!’ to one and all, and the phone rings off the hook. I can hardly contain myself. Sweets lie before me, waiting to be devoured, but after just one bite my stomach refuses to take any more food. The poor thing isn’t used to eating at this hour.
Soon I’m dressed in my best and head out for namaz. The streets are crowded with devotees thronging to nearby mosques to offer prayers. Sitting amidst the women, I take in the surroundings, the sights, the atmosphere. The takbiraat is on everyone’s lips, smiles abound, and salaams are conveyed. There is no greater feeling than that which this moment offers.
The safas are made and we all come together, ensuring that we are in a straight line. I inwardly chuckle as I gaze about me, easily one foot taller than the rest. It’ll be tricky ensuring that I don’t stub any toes or bump any person as we pray. The imam begins, slowly and meticulous reciting. At the end of Surah Al-Fatiha, the hundreds of people gathered there intone their ameen, causing the word to reverberate throughout the room.
Afterwards it’s time for my second favorite part of Eid:: the meet-and-greet. I dash to the car, camera in hand, and anxiously await the start of the adventure. At each house, more food is piled before me, hugs are exchanged, kisses given, and money secretly passed to eager hands. I try and take as many pictures as possible to forever preserve the day.
Lunch time rolls around, and kith and kin gather to eat tasty treats and mouthwatering dishes. My eyes boggle at the sight. Plates are stacked, and glasses are filled. There is hardly room for conversation as each person heartily digs in. My breath becomes constricted from the onslaught of ladles full of this and that, and begs to get away. Under a reproachful glare from the elders, I manage to nibble a bit more and then escape.
Cash in hand and surrounded by cousins, I take to the lanes of my neighborhood and buy some sparklers for the evening. The weather is perfect for stroll, and kids are at every corner, playing and shrieking in delight. As I near to my house once more, a toddler waddles slowly towards me, eyes streaked with surma. I greet her heartily and she gurgles in reply.
Back in time for dinner, the money gathered throughout the day is tallied and stashed away. Plans for their usage is discussed, be it on candy, clothes, or novels. Night falls and the sparklers are lit, crackling in the cool air as firecrackers pop noisily in the background. Another Eid has come and gone, another Ramadan behind us. God willing we see the next year, and tread along the straight path forever and always.
Soon I’m dressed in my best and head out for namaz. The streets are crowded with devotees thronging to nearby mosques to offer prayers. Sitting amidst the women, I take in the surroundings, the sights, the atmosphere. The takbiraat is on everyone’s lips, smiles abound, and salaams are conveyed. There is no greater feeling than that which this moment offers.
The safas are made and we all come together, ensuring that we are in a straight line. I inwardly chuckle as I gaze about me, easily one foot taller than the rest. It’ll be tricky ensuring that I don’t stub any toes or bump any person as we pray. The imam begins, slowly and meticulous reciting. At the end of Surah Al-Fatiha, the hundreds of people gathered there intone their ameen, causing the word to reverberate throughout the room.
Afterwards it’s time for my second favorite part of Eid:: the meet-and-greet. I dash to the car, camera in hand, and anxiously await the start of the adventure. At each house, more food is piled before me, hugs are exchanged, kisses given, and money secretly passed to eager hands. I try and take as many pictures as possible to forever preserve the day.
Lunch time rolls around, and kith and kin gather to eat tasty treats and mouthwatering dishes. My eyes boggle at the sight. Plates are stacked, and glasses are filled. There is hardly room for conversation as each person heartily digs in. My breath becomes constricted from the onslaught of ladles full of this and that, and begs to get away. Under a reproachful glare from the elders, I manage to nibble a bit more and then escape.
Cash in hand and surrounded by cousins, I take to the lanes of my neighborhood and buy some sparklers for the evening. The weather is perfect for stroll, and kids are at every corner, playing and shrieking in delight. As I near to my house once more, a toddler waddles slowly towards me, eyes streaked with surma. I greet her heartily and she gurgles in reply.
Back in time for dinner, the money gathered throughout the day is tallied and stashed away. Plans for their usage is discussed, be it on candy, clothes, or novels. Night falls and the sparklers are lit, crackling in the cool air as firecrackers pop noisily in the background. Another Eid has come and gone, another Ramadan behind us. God willing we see the next year, and tread along the straight path forever and always.