Why this Eid just doesn’t feel right
Eid is a time for celebration. Particularly Eid Al-Fitr which concludes the holy month of Ramadan. It marks jubilant cheer at having fulfilled the requirements of a demanding but ultimately gratifying month. And this Ramadan has been an endurance more than most, if not for the long hours (up to 22 hours in some parts of the world) then for the weather – upto 50˚C and near 100% humidity in our region.
But I don’t feel like celebrating. Partly because my father passed away barely four months ago, and we have a tradition – though it’s not a religious requirement, I must state – to not celebrate the first Eid after the loss of a closed loved one.
However this Ramadan has been tumultuous and emotionally trying for more reasons – the sheer horror of what this month has wrought upon fellow human beings across the globe. Quite possibly it’s no worse than normal months, but a constant stream of awfulness flooding my social media stream has left me more lost for words, closer to tears and so utterly indignant at my own helplessness than I’ve ever known.
Whether it’s the holocaust on children and innocents happening in Gaza, testified too by a sickening avalanche of unbelievable footage and photos that, embarrassingly, I can barely bring myself to view; or the outrages of ISIS, the latest animals to commit atrocities in the name of, yes believe it or not, a fundamentally peaceful religion; or the fact that no force on the planet is capable of rescuing just 200 girls taken by the pathetic tribal dacoits Boko Haram, and still missing 100 days later. And then of course more needless Muslim deaths in Syria, Sri Lanka, Pakistan and elsewhere.
Of course it’s not just Muslim deaths that I find myself mourning for either. You can’t help but be shocked at the THREE plane crashes that happened this month with more great loss of life, one of them needlessly shot down. Or the countless hundreds and thousands dying in pointless conflicts around the world even as I write.
Why does it seem that this Ramadan the world truly lost it? It went utterly mad and the indiscriminating fury of a strange insanity mercilessly inflicted death and destruction on a depressing and heartbreaking scale.
I can’t feel happy. I feel sad. Sad for humanity, sad for Muslims, sad for myself and my family. I only wish there was light at the end of the tunnel, but the blackness is overbearing I’m afraid. We’re all the same, we’re all humans, we’re all trying to get by on this tiny ball of earth and water we call home. Let’s leave the rejoicing and pray instead for peace and understanding across this deeply troubled globe.