It has been a Ramadan of challenges and despair, of that there is no doubt. As roads melt in the summer heat and plants wilt, people have undergone the challenge of no food and water for spiritual benefit. But it has been the despair that’s been harder to bear. Watching the pounding of Gaza, as the death toll rises day by day, and the bodies of children mount.
I watch the news, read the papers and engage on social media with trauma and a heart that each days feels it cannot bear any more of the horrific imagery and stories. Tucking my daughter into bed brings up the stories of parents carrying dead babies in plastic bags, of children with their heads dismembered, of mothers buried in the rubble with their babies. It is more than the human heart can bear.
I’m not surprised that in the run up to Eid the mood is sombre. So much so that there are an increasing number of people who say we should be downplaying Eid because of all the terrible things happening around the world, in particular in Gaza. How can we celebrate, they say, when our brothers and sisters are being bombed to a pulp night and day?
With the greatest respect to those suffering, for the rest of us outside of war-zones, to call for Eid to be cancelled is to be an Eid grinch.
I believe it’s important that we celebrate this twice-yearly occasion. Eid is not superficial, commercial “fun”, which means it is superfluous and therefore dispensable. To think so is to misunderstand the purpose of this wonderful celebration.
To say it is unimportant and belittles suffering and shows we have no heart (apparently) is to ascribe the same meaning to eid as some suggest others give to Christmas – when they celebrate it as a commercial occasion stripped of spiritual values. But it is only if you see eid as having no meaning that you can belittle its importance.
Eid is a moment of rejuvenation and fresh starts; a time to do things in a better way. If anything, the current horrific events should spur us in the same direction – that things need to be re-energised and approached in a fresh way. The togetherness Eid brings builds up community relationships and unifies voices through the shared experiences of fun and love.
This is crucial if we want to approach political and humanitarian challenges with strength of numbers and a united passion. And human beings need to be uplifted – the human heart can find joy even in the most terrible of situations, and this aspiration for justice, freedom and joy should be periodically revisited so we can remember what we are striving for. Eid should never be cancelled.
I admit, though, that sometimes I teeter on the edge of being an Eid grinch.
The complications of moon sighting are guaranteed to make my blood pressure rise. I’m exasperated at how people seem so eager to celebrate eid when clearly no moon has been sighted, and in my outraged opinion – and that of astronomical calculations – a moon-sighting was impossible. Once I’ve got over that angst, I’m overtaken by the challenge of celebrating eid two or even three times across the extended family. I love a good party but by day three, my party shoes are worn out and my party smile needs replacing.
But this year, I’m determined that celebrating is important for my own rejuvenation, and for building togetherness. So I’m going to avoid being an eid grinch, and so should you.
Shelina Zahra Janmohamed is the author of Love in a Headscarf and blogs at www.spirit21.co.uk