here are two ways to tell Eid is on its way — well, three, if you count yourself looking at the calendar, every now and then, to check how many rozas are left. But it strikes you the minute you step out in the evening and come across the various makeshift, colourful stalls on display in the streets.

You can find a wide variety of bangles that are so fashionable that they can be paired with any dress in your wardrobe. You can find more items like earrings, khussas and an array of mehndi stalls all across the market. It’s almost as if their buyers are going to compete with the peacock to see who is more staggering and fashionable.

The second is my favourite. Of course, I’m a little biased since these stalls don’t attract me as a male; regardless, they add colour to the scene. This is when the government announces the Eid holidays. I won’t do a fact-check on this, but I believe the government has graciously given away Eid holidays for the past few years.

Interestingly, despite having the highest numbers of yearly public holidays in the world, Pakistanis still feel let down when a public holiday falls on a weekend. May it be the Labour Day, or the Independence Day, we want it on a weekday.

We should actually be looking into a particular day’s meaning and celebrate it in its true essence, right? But how can we if it doesn’t give us the joy of getting off from work? Combine a public holiday with weekdays, and that’s an occasion to rejoice in.

Even this time around, Eid fell precisely on the weekend. But I had trust in the government, and the announcement came for a FIVE-day off for Eid. I know how every one of you must’ve jumped with joy when you heard this. Well, so did I. Thus, that, for me, is the most essential way to find out that Eid is near.

The name of this Eid is so spot-on — Meethi Eid. After a month-long exercise, where we’ve deprived ourselves of eating/ snacking throughout the day, it’s only fitting to call it meethi eid because, as they say, “Sabr ka phal meetha hota hai!’’ It also falls straight to the point for this one, doesn’t it? I guess we Pakistanis have a way with words.

Despite having the highest numbers of yearly public holidays in the world, Pakistanis still feel let down when a public holiday falls on a weekend. May it be the Labour Day, or the Independence Day, we want it on a weekday.

No matter how much you look forward to the Eid, napping after the eid namaz is an unofficial tradition in every household. It can be a power nap, not necessarily dropping dead for the rest of the day. In my family, we have a tradition of indulging in something sweet as soon as we return from the eid namaz. It could be kheer, seywian, ras malai, anything sweet. That’s how we’ve remembered it since childhood, the tradition of meetha on Meethi Eid.

Also, just like a wedding photo bombardment, Eid brings in a whole social media bombardment of Eid-wears. People put a lot of effort into getting their Eid clothes, and they look absolutely fabulous.

I have always wondered why people insist on buying new clothes every Eid. Why can’t you pick something really good from your closet? After having a healthy discussion with some people in my social circle, I have come to realise that Eid in the past used to be one of the only occasions when families would collectively go shopping for clothes. As was in the past, there weren’t many options for readymade dresses. The fashion industry in the country wasn’t booming (as it is today). Neither did the consumers have such a lot of purchasing power. That’s why families in the past made it a point to get new clothes on Eid. It’s a beautiful tradition that has caught on till date, even though we can and tend to have small shopping sprees throughout the year.

For the end note, I’d like to mention an awareness campaign that no one prepared me for. It’s difficult to transition from being the person who receives eidi to becoming the one who gives it out. I love the joy on the faces of the children I give eidi to. Well, I might still get some if I put on a puppy-dog face before my nani, fingers crossed.

The writer is an ex-serviceman and a freelancer. He can be reached at shaafayzia@gmail.com