“Come on!” From beneath one of the blanket, gurgling sounds indicating life were heard. Soon a disheveled head followed by a sleepy face emerged. “Papa, You go ahead. I will offer qaza later.” ‘There is no qaza for Eid prayers. Had it been, do you think I would have been up and about? Just get up.” “If I get up now, I will have difficulty sleeping again for the rest of the day on return. I have a lot to catch in terms of sleep. There cannot be a better day. I promise I will make it to the mosque before you on next Eid.” “But you are going to Australia next year.” “See, I will be in the mosque before you due to the time difference of four to five hours.” “I am saying for the last time, get up!” “OK, but only if you allow me to come as I am. I mean in my shorts. It will save time and moreover I also do not want to wear the starched shalwar kameez which makes me look bloated and overweight. Besides, I am not too sure how to enter it. The last time I wore it was with mom’s aid when I was young enough.” “And what about you, young man?” The father turned towards the other blanket.
The blanket replied. “Papa I have an upset stomach. Hence, I will rather chill in here.” The father proceeded to the mosque, thinking he might have been unfair with the boys since he himself had found it tough to get up that early on a holiday. Once it was confirmed that the father was gone, the elder son jumped out of the blanket, put on his ipod and listened to Justin Timberlake’s latest number the name of which cannot be printed due to conservative nature of this newspaper. The younger one kept sleeping fearing the boredom that awaited him outside the blanket. He dreaded his mother’s call for sewayyian in a couple of hours. Yes, the excuse of upset stomach would carry the day well.
In this household, this festival was not celebrated, but slept over. Eid did not belong to the house, but to the servant quarter where the servant was genuinely happy on receiving new clothes and eidee.
I hope I have not talked about YOUR I household, have I?