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.

Living Alone

For someone who has never lived away from family or friends for a single day of my life, living alone seemed to conjure up several romantic ideas.
Waking up when I want. Eat what I want, when I want. Drink at home. Stay out late without making up excuses.
And yes, all of that came true! But the romance of the proposition has long faded in the past 4 months.
Reality bites and hurts with a thud on the bum.
Waking up, whenever I choose to, now depends on pangs of hunger or the maid banging on the front door early in the morning. I eat what I want now, but most of the times there is nothing to eat. And I end up making snacks a full-fledged meal. As the month stretches over 30 tedious days, novelty of the snacks fizzles off with the fast depleting inflow of cash.
So soon the leftovers from the refrigerator come out. They are fancifully laid out on slices of bread and topped with lots of ketchup.
What I have gathered from these few months of experience is this – food – something I had, until now, considered a very inconsequential part of my daily routine [since my mom took care of preparing it religiously 3 times a day, in addition to keep them delicious and nutritious] has suddenly begun to rule the roost.
Oh and those awful read meals or Tiffin’s – they can drive back home the most flexible and non-fussy eater. Trust me!