Eid - Then And Now

The fresh aroma of shirkhurma was mouth- watering. As a child, I used to keenly wait for this time of the year. I walked into the kitchen to get a peek at the various items on the menu. My mom was taking freshly fried samosas out from the frying pan. I could hear my stomach grumble. I didn’t have enough patience to wait for her to serve it to me. But then again, didn’t have a choice either.

Except for the royal delicious breakfast, nothing about the day was extraordinaire like it once used to be. I had my day’s schedule in place and so did my mom and dad. The day had its significance when we were young and most importantly when we were in Udaipur. We all used to frenziedly wait for the 30 rozas to end. And then it would be all about smiles and laughter and colour.

The eagerness I had to wear the new apparels and grab the fanciest looking purse and walk out elegantly holding my dad’s hand to visit all the relatives and friends. The proud feeling I experienced every time someone would complement me or my dress. And of course Idi. How can I possibly forget that? That was the core reason to carry the purse.

The whole morning we used to spend visiting and greeting people. Then in the afternoon, we all used to gather at my maternal grandmother’s house for a fancy lunch. I must tell you, she is an awesome cook. I used to meet all my cousins there and we used to devote the entire afternoon counting our idi and showing off our dresses and doing other girly stuff.

In the evening we used to have a friend’s rendezvous. Usually, we used to go to some resort or someone’s farmhouse. Just like the breakfast and lunch, the dinner also used to be imperial. Wondering why am I mentioning food so much? Well, I’m a foodie and believe me on this, these food items tasted much better than what they cook at MasterChef (I am obviously exaggerating here).

It used to be one of the finest and the most awaited days of the year. Something I always looked forward to. We moved to Mumbai eight years back and I don’t miss anything about Udaipur as much as I miss this jamboree. Here, the only thing that hasn’t change is the food. I get the noble courses here also. But I miss my friends and my cousins and my grand mom’s hand cooked food. Still waiting for that year when I’ll be jammy enough to celebrate Eid-Ul-Fitr with everyone with the same excitement.

Knocking Our Doors - The Sacred Month Of Muharram

With the observing of the new moon the Islaamic New Year is steered in. Muharram, the first month is one of the four holy months that Allah has talked about in the Holy Qur’an, with which the Muslims begin their lunar Hijrah Calendar. Muharram is so called because it is a holy month and to confirm its sacredness one can read the Allah's words "so wrong not yourselves therein…" mean do not wrong yourselves in these sacred months, because it is believed that sin committed in these months is worse than in other months.

Muharram is so called because it was improper to fight during this month; the word has stemmed from the word ‘haram’ meaning prohibited. Muharram is not a festival in the celebratory sense as it mourns the Karbala tragedy when Imam Husain, grandson of Prophet Muhammad, was martyred in the early days of Islamic history. Their death is a sad day for all Muslims, especially the Shi’a, who hold grieving rituals to recall the virtuous qualities for which the brave martyrs stood and the grave calamities that they thus had to bear. The remembrance of this brutal massacre (Battle of Karbala) begins on the first day of Muharram and reaches its highlight on the 10th of Muharram, the day of the battle, known as ‘Ashurah’.

The massacre of Hussain took place on the tenth day of the month of Muharram; hence, the occasion is called Ashura. It is perceived as a day for public expression of grief. These episodes brought about the division of the community into two sects - the Shias and the Sunnis. The Shias consider Ali, Hassan and Hussain as the just heirs of Prophet Mohammed and mourn their death during Muharram. At the appearance of the moon, people clad in black assemble and recite sorrowful verses over sweetened cold drink, in memory of Imam Hussain. They observe the entire month as a period of mass mourning. There is no celebration or expression of joy of any kind. Women are expected to abandon all adornments. Public enactments of grief, portraying scenes from the Battle of Karbala, are carried out in Shia mosques on the first ten days. This is done to express the brutalities that Hussain suffered during the battle of Karbala. The Sunnis, on the other hand, celebrate the occasion on a quieter note and indulge in calm and silent offerings.

Profusely decorated Taziyas (bamboo and paper replicas of the martyr's tomb), elaborated with gold and mica are carried through city streets. Mourners beat their back mourning and weeping over the murder, accompanied by drum beats. Young men beat their back crying "Husain! Husain!" in collective sorrow.

To conclude I would like to say is the best tribute that we can pay to them is to do some soul-searching. Do we have the right to be called the followers of the Prophet Mohammed? Have we really understood the message of Imam Husain? Are the tears for Husain drawn merely by the scenes of mere bloodshed? Are we ready to shed aside our differences and respect each other’s views during our religious talks during Moharram?

When we will have all the answers and when we will follow the path that they have told us to, only then will we be able to comprehend the significance of Karbala.