Mubarak Din

This year Eid has been a completely different experience. Uptil 2007 I have spent every Ramazan Eid with my family - parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandma et al. The dinner party where 100's from the extended family meet up. The rituals is to gather Eid-i, play housie, comment on inches gained or lost, length of hair and styles accompanied with everyone's opinions. The crammed function hall, the late meal. Getting dressed, choosing the right accessories, new clothes, photo sessions.
And I had taken it all for granted. Cribbed about making such a big deal about visiting each one's home and nearly passing out by the time we head home late in the night. Stuffed as we would be with the Sev Khurma and platter of goodies offered at each house, I had never thought that there would come a year when I would not be a part of this hubbabullo.
As a token gesture I wore salwar-kameez to office. But it just wasn't the same. I am used to working on Eid, but having nothing to look forward to really made me lose my appetite. I sucked on sour grapes for lunch, then slunk to my desk and quietly shed tears. I bought new clothes, ate sweets, dressed up, demanded Eid-i from friends. But it isn't just the Eid without family. I have never felt so alone before.