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Published : 24 May 2020, 06:10 AM
Normally at this time of the year, people are always in a rush. Whether it is the rush to beat the traffic and get home in time for Iftar, wake up and gulp down some Sehri before going to sleep, waking up groggy in the morning and rushing to make it to work on time, racing to the shops to buy Eid-ul-Fitr clothes and gifts for yourselves and loved ones, or trying to make it to the many Iftar parties. It all boils down to this – Ramadan passes by in a blur of hunger, thirst and various activities. And then comes what everyone looks forward to – Eid bonuses and Eid itself.
This year, this month, like the few months before it, has passed by in a blur of worries, nostalgia and hunger. Unlike other times, however, this month seems to have slowed down somewhat. The absence of feverish shopping, making plans for Iftar, preparing for Eid is loudly absent from our lives (well, some of our lives. I will not get into the shoppers crowding the stores as I write this). One of the perks of Ramadan, the shortened office times, is also missing this time in most cases. I am quite confident no one is missing the end-of-office traffic though.
Due to the emerging economic crisis, lots of companies are not being able to give their employees their Eid bonuses, some not even being able to give regular salaries! Tons of people are losing their jobs, and with the situation only getting worse, are terrified of what the future holds, and if they will continue to be able to afford food and shelter for their families. Hordes of people are going to their home villages and are being criticised for crowding into ferries and buses to go home. I, however, have a different view. Because of the economic crisis, these people might not be able to afford to live in expensive Dhaka and want to go home so that they can at least have a roof over their heads, and maybe find some work in the village fields, where helping hands are almost always needed.
As Ramadan is ending and Eid is approaching, a new terror has gripped this part of the world – Cyclone Amphan. At a time when everyone is normally excited about spending the festival with their loved ones, planning what dishes are to be cooked, what clothes will be worn, and where to visit, hundreds of thousands of people's lives have been torn apart. Many people have lost their homes, possessions and some have lost loved ones. Adding to this is the continued threat of Covid-19, which means people cannot huddle together to protect themselves or even seek comfort, because it may place them in danger.
COVID-19 has gripped the world in its claws and is refusing to let go. Recently, it has hit very close to home. It very possibly claimed the life of the father of our neighbour and put their sister in the ICU. The sister, mother and the sister's children have tested positive for COVID-19. Our neighbours have a small son, close to the age of my little niece. The grief of losing a parent, the terror for their sister, the concern of whether they themselves have been affected…. I cannot begin to describe how they must be feeling. As their neighbour, we feel devastated for their loss and worries, and worry about exposure ourselves due to close proximity. I have two parents at home, and a large portion of my day spraying disinfectants in the front door area and making sure my parents stay away from there. All of us in the building have imposed self-quarantine, which means this year will be the first year I will be spending Eid away from my husband and parents-in-laws after marriage (I had come to visit my parents for a few days before this happened), but on the plus side it means I get to revisit my childhood and stay with my parents for Eid!
Similar situations are present in hundreds of thousands of households across the globe. Millions of people have already been affected, and the dire warnings of more to come are ever-present. Some people call COVID-19 "the rich man's disease" as it does not seem to be present in the slums of Bangladesh. But if that were the case, all the people not being able to afford to stay in Dhaka and are heading to their villages should be safe and free from criticism?
I could go on about all the worries and bad things happening in the world, but I would also like to remind ourselves of the tiny positive rays of sunshine in these dark times. While every Eid we run around trying to get everything ready before Eid and/or focus on material things such as clothes and comparing with extended family and friends on who makes the best nashta (breakfast), which means Eid is almost always exhausting. This year, we can take some time to relax during the (short) holiday and enjoy with family, and maybe connect with extended family and friends over phone or video calls to just spend some time catching up with each other in a group. We can also make the nashtas that we ourselves love, and not what other people might like more. Most of all, we can take some time to be thankful to be alive, and pray for those who are not, and for those who are suffering from illness, loss or otherwise.
