Day 29: “Oh,What Would Eid Be Without Mehndi!”

Guest blogger: My dear friend Bano AuntyThe local community room is alive with music blaring, a myriad of costumes, laughter and aromas of spicy food, as several people gather to celebrate ‘Chand Raat’. It is the last day of Ramadan, and tomorrow we will celebrate Eid. My two little grand kids have explored the toy stalls, eaten a hearty meal, and now eagerly ask, “when will we do the mehndi?” They skip along as we head to the hallway lined with ladies, deftly working mehndi cones into exquisite designs, as paisleys, birds, flowers and geometric patterns spill on to outstretched palms. As we settle down, my grandson wants to be first and requests a smiley face on his hand. My granddaughter patiently reviews many designs and finally chooses one, and watches raptly as it unfolds onto her tiny hand.My mind drifts to my seven year old self … as I make a circle with henna on my palm and slowly make dots all around, with a matchstick! The sweet smell of henna fills the room. My new clothes, very fancy, with shimmering ‘gota’ trim, are laid out on the chair. A new pair of shoes too and matching glass bangles! Many Eids follow, and the ritual of taking dry green powdered mehndi, and mixing it with water and watching it turn thick like melted chocolate, continues. The excitement and creative energy as patterns form on ones hand; the laughter and giggling as friends and family gather on nights before Eid and the platter of mehndi comes out, bringing out the artist in all. Then comes the magic moment. Washing the dry mehndi off the next morning and the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of whose color came out a more spectacular deep rusty orange. Whose hand smelled the most fragrant. My father would be the greatest admirer of my mehndi endeavors. At one Eid fair I asked him for 8 annas (50cents) to buy some bangles. He promptly gave me five rupees ($5). I felt I could buy the whole basket of bangles perched on the woman’s head. With a twist of her arms she would gracefully put the basket down, and we would point excitedly at the piles of glass bangles shimmering as they caught the light. Choosing some for each wrist and then letting them jingle, all day long. It was Eid after all!Then came time for me to go to college in Lahore and live in the hostel. My very first Eid away from home. Plans were made to spend Eid with my aunt and uncle and cousins. A warm welcome, a hearty meal, and the evening drags on. The sun has set, prayers have been offered, the drums are beating, announcing the sighting of the moon and Eid the next day. But no sign of mehndi action, no sign of bangles action! I become quieter and a bit sad. It does not occur to me to say something. As an attack of homesickness descends, the tears come rolling down.My cousin in panic calls her mother into our room, as I begin sobbing uncontrollably. My dearest aunt, the sweetest lady on earth, stares in disbelief and is ready to dissolve into tears herself! My saying mehndi, at that point does not help because everyone thinks something serious is wrong. A phone call is promptly booked, through an operator to Quetta, to my parents. There is a heavy ringing sound. My father picks up the phone. He listens to my aunt and laughing heartily says sweetly to her “dear dearest little sister, just send your servant to the bazaar and get some mehndi.” Both my parents talk to me on the phone. I can hear my brothers playing in the background. A fresh round of Eid Mubaraks follow. As the receiver is put down, the help from the kitchen is seen scurrying on his bicycle to the bazaar. Oh, what would Eid be without mehndi!Day 29, Tradition 29: Mehndi on Chaand Raatphoto by Larry Levine