No matter how difficult it might be, nothing manages to get us desis as excited as Ramazan and Eid. We manage to enjoy every bit of the whole thing tbh. Be it the madness of sighting the Ramazan moon or the endless Iftaaris, and Sehris, or yet again, another conflict of spotting the Eid moon – we absolutely love it.
Ramazan over the years has been somewhat the same for me.
All those pre-preparations and the hustle bustle for Sehri and Iftaari. The tiring Taraweehs and messed up routines. And not to mention the sleeping habits. It’s the same case every year. This Ramzan however, was different for me than usual because when my mother started preparing all those different types of samosas and rolls, she very keenly reminded me that I should start acting more gharelo.
And so, it finally hit me that this is actually going to be my last Ramazan and Eid before my inevitable marriage.
Sounds a bit stomach-turning right? Yeah, everything inside my brain my heart and my body has been turning upside down since then. As much as I used to enjoy Ramazan, this one has been a roller coaster ride and even at the end, I still haven’t learned how to make parathas. Oops.
It’s incredibly messed up though, how we don’t realize how much we cherish something unless we are about to lose it.
All my life, my siblings and I have been those useless kids who expect to be woken up right before Sehri and have a table set up for us with a lavish breakfast. Ammi was always up an hour before preparing all sorts of things for us because well… Farmaishain hee buhat hain.
And Baba, on the other hand, would have the job of waking us up about a hundred times before we actually managed to drag ourselves out of bed.
All of us had to be seated at the table and make dua together before Sehri could begin because Ammi had strict rules for that.
After Sehri we would run off to our rooms and pray as quickly as possible and then resume gluing ourselves to our cell phones. The rest of the day would pass with us snoring in our rooms and poor Ammi getting ready yet again to fulfill our farmaishain for Iftaar. She would of course occasionally shout at us for being the laziest brats and remind us that we are most definitely going to hell.
Sometimes there were threats of being chittared.
This Ramazan however, my Ammi was not the Ammi I knew all these years.
She turned into some strict school teacher who had the job of making sure I could wake up to the sound of the alarm (which just btw I have never done!), roll out all those desi ghee parathas, set the table with a remarkable aesthetic sense, sit down with the utmost tameez and eat with perfect table manners.
She even scolded Baba for trying to help me out, saying “Hum nahi hon gay iskay saath hamesha!”
Matlab…marriage nahi hogayi, koi strict institute hogaya.
The worst part is not knowing whether I am ready to face all the challenges that come with marriage. I mean its just so difficult. I’ve spent 22 years of my life under the shadow and constant care of my parents. The thought of taking off that “papa ki princess” crown makes me wanna cry…
This Ramazan was different, not only because of the numerous things my mother was trying to teach me but also because of the love she gave me in the process.
Every now and then while scolding me her eyes would become all teary and she would just turn away so I couldn’t see. But I could see and I realized that as much as it’s difficult for me, it’s a hundred times more heartbreaking for my parents to let go of me. Marriage clearly has a very gloomy side to it.
Brb… Crying again.
Just like Ramazan, Eid for my family is a very special occasion too.
We have a ritual of waking up early morning and while the boys go for Eid ki Namaz, us girls (well, mostly Ammi) prepare a hearty breakfast. After having breakfast together, all of us literally pounce on Baba and Ammi and ask for our Eidis as if it’s our hard-earned income that we are demanding.
Normally Eid comprises of three days but for a huge family like my own, it stretches over to four or five days. Lest to say that I actually enjoy the cheesy greetings, the Eidi envelopes, the delicious dry saviyaans and sheer khurma and the chai making rituals which are a definite part of Eid in Pakistan.
I get hysterical when I imagine how Eid will be next year without having Ammi wake me up and Baba asking to quickly iron his kurta…
Time spent with the parents and family is without a doubt the best. But eventually, daughters have to leave their comfort zone, their happy place – their childhood altogether. This time next year supposedly I’ll have to behave like a responsible grown-up who has a household of her own to handle. Yikes!
Am I ready? Probably not. But let’s see how it goes. Are you a soon-to-be bride spending your last Ramazan and Eid with your parents? Share your story with us in the comments below.
Cover image via thebridalbox.com