It’s been a couple of weeks since I wrote anything here and a couple of weeks since Eid-ul-Fitr which marks the end of Ramadan.
Hands down, it was one of the best Eids I have had in my entire life, Alhamdulillah. The only thing which would have made it perfect would have been if my youngest son were there too. But he is away from home and discovering the world and learning things for the betterment of his duniya (temporal world) and Akhirah (the Hereafter).
Eid-ul-Fitr is strangely bittersweet in that it symbolises the exit from the beautiful month of Ramadan. It is comparable to the birth of a baby who has had the comfort of it’s mother’s womb where everything is safe and secure and yet the arrival of that baby into the world is something people wait with eager anticipation. On the other hand, Eid-ul-Fitr also celebrates the observance of a month of higher slef-discipline and self-awareness – a form of mental, physical and spiritual retraining that most Muslims look forward to as an impetus to improve on themselves. Although we leave Ramadan with a somewhat heavy heart, we understand that the lessons of that month are not lost on us, insha’Allah.
The day of Eid this year started beautifully with the congregational prayer out in the open and alongside family and friends. The khutbah (sermon) was succinct and thought-provoking and set us up for the day ahead reminding us about the appreciation for what Allah has blessed us with and what we need to do from here as we move on in time. The togetherness was comforting. Seeing my sons also dressed in new clothes, which we had bought together a couple of weeks before, was endearing for me as it’s been a while since they have accepted to make a fuss of this aspect of Eid. What’s more, one of their English Muslim revert friends had also joined us and wore the outfit we had bought him. The inclusivity which he felt was a cherry on the cake for me!
The rest of the day was spent together at my sister’s house and she and her husband were the generous hosts as usual. Family and friends came and went and throughout the day there was much laughter, happiness and a sense of familial bonds. Having our new Muslim friend amongst us made it extra special given he has not yet made it public knowledge of his conversion to his parents and so, most likely, would not have celebrated Eid otherwise. But he enjoyed everything that day – the clothes, the food and the company. Having him in our midst was also an eye-opener for those who’d not been in such close proximity to a revert Muslim. His presence made us realise how much we take for granted having been born into the faith and been surrounded by Muslim family all the time.
Later that evening, his own friend, another British-Chinese Muslim, joined us at my sister’s house and sitting around the table, with everyone sharing personal anecdotes of life as a Muslim, new or old, was quite a befitting conversation to be having on the day of Eid itself. It was as if those stories offered a reaffirmation of why we were all together, celebrating the day and even the life we had all consciously chosen to follow. Alhamdulillah for everything.
I know by the end of the evening, I felt that warm glow inside where gratitude for my life was overflowing. And I know I wasn’t the only one. Even those two young new Muslim men, who probably didn’t realise the impact they had made on us, were just as comfortable to be in our presence, despite never having met me and my family before. I know for sure they were even reluctant to go home! The day was such a wonderful celebration of family, friendship and life.
In retrospect, I realise now that the feeling of completeness isn’t something another person can bring. It is something to be found within oneself and is only ever going to be achieved once Allah becomes the centre of our existence. Anything other than that will have us running around in circles with no beginning and definitely no end.
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