We celebrate two Eids in the Islamic calendar year. Eid-ul Fitr and Eid-ul Adha. Eid-ul-Fitr, Little Eid, is earlier in the year and Eid-ul Adha called Greater Eid is later. We, in Kashmir, call them Lokut Eid and Badh Eid. Both the Eids recognize, celebrate and recall two distinct events that are significant to the story of Islam. However, Eids in Kashmir from last two years are missing the usual fervor. Earlier Eid-ul-Adha was observed amid restrictions and Eid prayers were not offered. Both the Eids, last year, too were marked under the shadow of Covid-19 to prevent the spread of the coronavirus.
On Eids, children get Eidi (Eid Tip) from adults. Nowadays, children get an adequate amount of money as Eidi and spend it according to their own will. However, our time was quite dissimilar. We were given a very meager amount as Eid expenditure that too after a lot of struggle. I would buy balloons and a toy-pistol with that paltry sum of Eidi called Eidiayan. As I recollect, I was given Eidi by some persons only and the collection would not exceed rupees 20. I recall, throughout the entire day of Eid, I and my cousin would keep asking Gul Kak for the Eidiayan who was none of our relatives, which I realized later. We’d follow him wherever he’d go in the village and when we would get on to his nerves, he would throw some coins towards us offensively saying ‘Dafa Gachuv.…’. It would then take us minutes together to search those coins out from the grass.
My mother would keep my Eidi either in Buegwaer (money-bank) or would keep it safe for my stationery. Only a small amount was given to me for purchasing balloons or some other toys. Those days, balloons, Fuhkboos, were the lone plaything for children. As a child, I was fond of Bundooq, toy-pistol, than balloons, because the firing sound would fill me with excitement. We’d call it Tosbundooq in childish parlance, the only affordable toy that children liked much and could play with during Eids. It would produce bullet sounds and would then cost us Rs. 5 only. There was no color except black it would sell in. This two piped instrument would produce fires when fire-strips were fitted in it. Firing sound would enthrall children a lot. My mom used to pack this tool just after the Eid joy was over and would give it to me again on the next Eid, not because she was a miser but because she was afraid of 5th situation around.
Ali Bhat, popularly known as Ali Kak among children those days in my village was an elderly man. On Eid days, he’d open the door of his shop early morning. Children would gather in front of his shop from the morning and look at various toys inside the shop with curiosity. Unlike shopkeepers of today, he would not place a cot before his shop and do brisk business. He’d simply sit on the shop front and keep some colorfully inflated balloons hanging just outside, so as to attact children of the Mohalla. The multicolored balloons would give an alluring look to Ali Kak’s shop those days. Long balloons were famous among children. We’d gleefully call them Eklars. A balloon cost us Chavani (25 Paisa) then. A one rupee coin would fetch us four balloons. Nevertheless, one would only buy two Eklars balloons to a one-rupee coin. These balloons (Eklars) were expensive and appeared like bottle-gourds. Just inside his shop, if something would tempt us, it was either thetoy pistol or the colorful balloons. As children we’d never feel tired while loitering the entire day. We’d blow up number of balloons and feel so excited and jubilant after tying them together with a strong thread. We, out of joy, would then move around briskly and oh, the fluttering of the balloons would bubble us over!
I haven’t forgotten the day of Lokut Eid (Little Eid) when the day of festivity had almost faded over. I had also come back to my place being done with playing like other children. That was my first time to have purchased that Tossbundooq from Ali Kak’s shop. It was the day, I realized that my dad disliked a toy like gun, may be due to the reason people feared troops those days. My father rebuked me. He didn’t let me sit down until I, instantly, returned that toy back to Ali Kak. I very well recall, it got dimmer and dimmer when I, accompanied by my late sister Shaheena, went to Ali Kak’s shop for returning that Tossbundooq. O! My heart sank in deep despair that day and I tried hard to hold back tears!
Ali Kak was an old shopkeeper but very kind. His shop was in the wooden-granary. At first, he refused to take the pistol back, as I had used it the entire day. But when my beloved sister told him that he would not be allowed to enter home, he, pitifully, opened the safe and returned me rupees five which was my Eidi. And, when I along with my sister came home back, my father advised me, “Yen bare dubar zindgi manz auth fitnah gare aanak. Teche pher gach zay yeth dafa. (Be careful to get such a stupid things home. You’ll be expelled from home the moment you’ll bring such damnable things in).” Since then I’ve never in my life handled tossbundooq which used to be my prime cheerfulness those days. What though things have changed around me, I still fear that my father will scold me if I touched it.
Those days, Eid was eagerly waited for to get Eidiyaan but as we grew up, all the heavenly traces have gone. How beautifully has William Wordsworth said, “When the child achieves complete manhood, the heavenly light completely leaves him and instead he is surrounded by the daily routine of life.” I crave for those days only to be that carefree child again when our parents wouldn’t bother about us at all.
Manzoor Akash teaches English, hails from Dangiwacha, Rafiabad