Recurring Festivities...

When a dear person asked me what is it exactly that we do for Eid, my head did chi-ching, what an idea for my blog.

Right about now, i cant stop sniffing my hands, they smell so darn lovely, i'm almost afraid to wash them, dont want the fragrance of Mehendi to go....after 10 years i broke the spell, i was so jittery when i sat for the mehendi, the girl noticed and asked why? I couldnt explain, i tried but didnt feel like she;s the right person who can absorb the enormity of my significance to the dark artistic lines on my hands. But i didnt justify the whole process, i was feeling hungry too, obviously i couldnt ask her to give me a bite of that cereal bar from my bag.

When Lunoo called to wish, her day dawned there and she's already celebrating it. Jijju, samad and shobi bhaiya all at the masjid, she and asad at home. Meetha, biryani all planned, i can just imagine my jijju sitting cross legges on the couch and enjoying his food to the last bit.

This morning, Ammi was eagerly waiting for the news of sighting of the moon on TV, she was like do you remember how you all would never be home and all you'd see is a nice clean house, kabhi ghar mein rehthey hi nahi thay....but i do remember ammi, all the house smelling of fresh flowers from the garden, fresh linen on the divans, beds, washed, and ironed table cloths, sparkling clean china, the lace curtains gently welcoming the guests coming in and out, big bowl of fruit salad, bigger bowl of semiya, the less fortunate waiting at the door step for the goodies.

As soon as baba and uncles are back from namaaz, we'd give our salams, all of us would get weighty eidi's, (i never knew what to do with it, so i;d give it to my mom). All the rush for wearing new clothes, mehendi the night before, the sweet sound of duas blessing gently exhaled on to our faces....the rush to get to breakfast.

All of baba's friends, collegues, poets dropping by to wish him, ammi making more and more of semiya, roasting kajoos, kishmish (whihc i'd always ask for more). No tv or movies were allowed that day, we only had to play with each other. Chacha, chachi, Phuppa, Phuppi, mama, mami, khalajaan and khalasaab, badey ammi and badey abbu.....all my cousins, the fabric of my childhood memories, my life as i know it, the constant ring of phones to wish eachother, swapping stories. Later as we were growing up, my brothers friends, practically living at our place the week before eid, to help us....ha ha.

The best memory is the aroma of briyani being fed by mehendi clad hands, it is so DIVINE. I wish i can bottle that fragrance, how my phuppijaan would always sneak secretly in more eidi (only to me).

God, i thank you for everything, the life, the home, the good friends old and new. This year instead of sorely sulking and missing every bit of it, i chose to relish the memories and live the day with those memories.

Miss hearing you baba, miss not receiving a card....I cant tell you how much! Baba, taran is growing up so much, i see you in him, i see a face so sweet and a voice so melodious...send him your blessings, yeah!