Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Eid can be fun?

It can be. But, so far, it's not.

I called my really good friend, A., this morning. She's a devout Muslim, whose spirituality is inspiring and contagious at the same time. Unlike many of us, she is not only raised as a Sunni-Muslim, but also professes that particular denomination of Islam out of personal conviction, flavoured with a tinge of Sufism.

Don't read me wrong. I'm a very spiritual person myself. Comparatively well-read (but not an authority) on Islam, I find the religion to be really interesting and more realistic than other major religions. Sure, I want to be all spiritual, loving and forgiving. But justice - which happens to be the main article of Islam - is also the most important aspect of religion or any ideology that would rivet my attention. That said, I cannot deny the fact that I'm unsatisfied with Islam's uncreative way of celebrating its two feasts; Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha.

While Ramadan has a unique spirit, so to say, it still remains unclear to me why we seal off the month with a feast of food that ultimately shocks our systems, which would have adjusted to the one-meal (or two, if you're one who takes suhoor) diet for a month. Calling it Eid al-Fitr (feast of fast-breaking) doesn't make it any nicer or more enjoyable, really. I'm struggling to learn the morale of this story-lacking observance. Associating feast with food doesn't seem very "spiritual" to me. It's as if the spirituality ends with Ramadan.

Eat. Give your zakaah. And life goes on.

Ok, there was the Eidiya (Eid money), which we loved as kids. Elders in the family would hand us new notes of cash, which by the end of the day would have accummulated into a fairly reasonable sum that we spent before the end of the week on toys, and more toys. But now, as grown ups, we have been denied that childhood luxury. Not only that, but we are now of age to be expected to give Eidiyas to the younger ones.

The day begins with us greeting our parents and siblings, as if we had not just seen them the day before. As if we had not had a massive fight with one of the siblings before going to bed. And all that is supposed to miraculously change the following day, as if one has woken up hit by a wave of amnesia.

Sure, it's nice to be forgiving and pleasant on a feast-day, but then what? Visit relatives, which in this part of the world, you get to see as many times a week, if not daily? Have a huge, happy family meal together, which you surely can do on any given day if you'd bother to call on your relatives when they'd been persistently asking you to drop by?

Let's face it: it's all meaningless.

And to top it off, the aesthetic aspect of symbolism is non-existent. You cannot hang a tree with decorations on it. Oh no, astaghfirullah! We're not going Christian here now, are we? Forget about making it a spiritual day either. Apart from the Eid prayers in the morning, mosques are totally uninvolved in the celebrations. (Celebrations? As if. Hah!) By mid-day, it doesn't feel like Eid anymore. It's just another day, with megaphones blaring on high minarets, calling people to come for prayers.

Maybe in 7th century Arabia, when they first started observing Eid al-Fitr with all the food displayed in large quantities, it may have been meaningful. They weren't starved, but I'm sure the luxury of being served meat wasn't available on a daily basis. But things have changed now. I do not mean to say that the abundance of food has caused people to become wasteful and take this blessing for granted (which is the case, really). What I mean is that the idea of feasting on food is not appealing anymore.

Eid al-Adha, which we are supposed to be celebrating today, is not any better. So a goat is slaughtered in homage to Prophet Ibrahim's test of faith, in which he had willingly set forth to carry out God's order to slaughter his only son, Ishmael (yes, it was Ishmael, and not Isaac. It couldn't have possibly been Isaac. I shall elaborate on this later on). After we slaughter the poor goat that moans and resists as it is being dragged by a butcher to be killed (they really aren't that stupid; they know they're going to be killed), we feast on more food. Even Eid al-Adha is about food. Food and more food. Two Eids with different names, but more or less the same purpose - to eat our fill of meat.

There's really nothing else in Eid.

Take Christmas, for instance. While it is supposed to mark the birth of Jesus, it is punctuated with so much non-religious symbolism, which makes it fun and colourful. Both the Christmas tree and Santa have no Christian origin, yet they have become the most prominent symbols of Christianity, and the fun holiday season. Even seculars and those who are not affiliated with any religion enjoy Christmas. Heck, I too enjoy it!

Why can't we have such symbolism with productive elements?

I was texting my good friend, Z., back and forth about this matter just a while ago. I said, "How about we create a Santa-like figure, who has more religious relevance to Eid? Someone we can call Hajji Ibrahim - Hajji, in reference to the Hajj season; and Ibrahim in reference to the Prophet (peace be upon Him). This revered figure can come every Eid al-Adha to distribute Eidiyas (or gifts) to kids, and urge them to give the Eidiyas to the less fortunate people around them. This could be a practice by which kids are taught at a young age the meaning and value of "giving", "generosity" and basically zakaah. Hajji Ibrahim can also narrate the story of Prophet Ibrahim and/or the other Prophets.

Mosques can also take more active roles, by preparing elaborate programmes that include entertainment in the form of nasheeds; lectures; (religious) plays; and a huge banquet which Muslims from all nationalities can attend.

Eid can be fun, if only they'd allow me to plan it.



(Ibrahim's sacrifice: I said it was Ishmael. According to Genesis 22:2, God said to Abraham, "Take now your son, your only son, Isaac." He again says, "You have not withheld your son, your only son, from me." Genesis 22:12. Well, I must break it to you: the Bible is wrong. Ishmael is the first-born child, and if there was at any time an "only son" that belonged to Ibrahim, it would have been Ishmael. God couldn't have possibly called Isaac the "only son", when Ishmael would have probably been a teenager at the time Isaac was born. Unless God forgot about Ishmael for two seconds there? *sarcasm* Good morning, guys.)

2 comments:

BuJ said...

hey, i never knew anyone said that Abraham sacrificed Isaac.. i always knew it as Ismael.. mind you i read more koran than bible or any genesis etc..

so christians really believe that it was isaac that was sacrified? how weird.. i need to read more into this!

why no comments on ur blog! you need to advertise it.. put it on itoot.net.. u have amazing posts.

btw, at least they got something right when they wrote this new version of the bible.. coz i don't get all this easter stuff with the passion etc..

wa ma qatalooh wa ma salabooh walakin shubbiha lahum.

Reema B. said...

Salam 3alaikum,

Mashallah, I love your blog and I am so happy to have finally bumped into such a blog (or any piece of blunt courageous literature concerning our country like your blog!).

Hmm, I'd have to say that I kinda disagree with you in this particular post(as much as I do love the idea of "Haji Ibrahim" lol)...I really began to appreciate Eid much more now that I am studying abroad in Boston, MA. I seriously didn't feel the Eid this year and I was feeling quite nostalgic. I guess, in the end, it is just individual differences in our memories and experiences of Eid.

I actually do feel some form of spirituality in Eid. Allah always tells us in the Holy Qur'an to look and reflect upon what we eat, and what better time to do it especially right after a month of fasting and in memory of Ibrahim's test of faith? Allah also tells us not to forget our portion in life so why should not the Eids be "delightful feasts"?

Yet unfortunately, in our modern days people do not spread this spirituality as it is meant to be. I think the "festive delights of feasts" must be experienced within us (literally and metaphorically) and then spread to our families, relatives, friends, neighbors, strangers, and those in need (in other words, resulting in a ripple effect from within us). But then how can we spread this spirituality if we ourselves do not feel it? This, in my humble opinion, results in complaints like yours (which is definitely legitimate).

I never had this thought until now that I am studying abroad and missing home.

I love your ideas about what should be done for Eid...Allah ya3lam, maybe one day you and I can work together on this? :-p

Sorry for the LONG reply by the way!!

In the meantime, you are more than welcome to stop by either of my blogs:

http://teatimereflections.blogspot.com
http://journey2submission.blogspot.com