– Abul Faiz Azmi
It was the last night of Ramadan, the eve of Eid. The markets were glowing with lights, the air was filled with happiness, and joy could be seen everywhere. Children dressed in new clothes, girls with jingling bangles, and sweet shops brimming with treats—everything reflected the excitement of the festival. But Abid’s world was entirely different from this cheerful atmosphere.
He sat silently by the window in his room. The laughter from outside only deepened the sadness within him. He opened his book, but the words seemed meaningless. When he picked up his phone, images of Palestinian children appeared on his social media feed.
One child, wrapped in tattered clothes, sat in the ruins. His eyes reflected hunger, fear, and loneliness.
Abid felt as if someone had clenched his heart. Frustrated, he stood up, took a deep breath, and sat down on his bed. A storm raged inside him, but he couldn’t put it into words.
A little later, Rabia came running in. “Bhaiya! Ammi is saying to get ready quickly—we need to go shopping for Eid!”
Abid looked up at her but lowered his gaze again without saying a word. Rabia stared at him in surprise, then shrugged and left.
A few moments later, Ammi entered the room. “Abid, what’s going on? You haven’t had your haircut, nor have you bought new clothes! Tomorrow is Eid, and look at your condition!” Worry was evident in her voice.
Abid kept his head down. In a low voice, he said, “Ammi, I don’t feel like buying anything.”
Ammi’s face showed a mix of shock and frustration. “What do you mean? Eid is a day of happiness! If you don’t want anything, fine—but at least come with us so Rabia and I can shop!”
But Abid remained silent. Annoyed, Ammi stomped out, but deep inside, she was troubled. Why was Abid acting this way?
Later that night, when Abu returned home, Ammi told him about Abid’s uneasiness. Abu became concerned and went straight to Abid’s room, with Ammi following. Abid sat there silently, lost in deep thought.
“Son, what’s the matter?” Abu asked gently.
Abid looked up, his eyes moist. After a brief silence, he finally spoke. “Abu, do we have the right to immerse ourselves in Eid celebrations while our brothers cry under the rubble? We will walk around in new shoes, but their feet are covered in wounds…”
Ammi and Abu listened silently. Abid’s voice choked. He paused, then spoke softly.
“Ammi, Abu… These clothes, these shoes—do you know which company makes them? These are the same people who fund Israel, and with their money, bombs are dropped on innocent children. We celebrate in branded outfits while they crave a morsel of food.”
For a moment, the room fell into complete silence. Ammi stared at her hands helplessly. Abu took a deep breath.
Just then, Rabia rushed in with her new clothes and shoes. With a trembling voice, she said, “Ammi, I don’t want to wear these either! If our Palestinian brothers and sisters are in pain, we should stand with them.”
Ammi moved forward and embraced both of them, her eyes filled with both pride and tears. Abu gently placed his hand on Abid’s head and said, “Son, today you have shown us the light of truth. The real Eid is to feel the pain of our brothers and do whatever we can to help. From today, we pledge to remove all products from our home that belong to companies supporting the oppressors.”
On Eid morning, Abid wore his old but clean clothes. There was a unique glow on his face. Today, his happiness did not come from decorated shops but from the peace within his heart.
He prayed to Allah, “Ya Allah, grant us not only awareness but also the strength to act, so we can truly help our brothers.”
With this thought, he took out his phone and sent a message to his friends:
“Share joy this Eid and raise your voice for those who need it the most. Boycott products from companies that support oppressors. Pray, help, and do whatever is possible!”
This Eid was not dull but filled with genuine happiness, for Abid had understood the true meaning of sacrifice and empathy.
