No matter what, Eid brings no less of excitement and happiness for the poor and destitute, even if it is just a one-good-day for them.
Often lost in glitzy show-offs, the spirit of the religious festival never dims even in the smallest of houses, and in the hearts of the least fortunate.With Ramadan drawing to its end and the moon filling up, these less lucky people give the more solvent a chance to be generous and thankful. All they want is a hand to pull them up and say, “Life is not all unfair.”
Sixty-seven-year-old beggar Hakim Abdul, who limps about New Market traffic signal, loves the Eid rush and mile-long tailbacks in front of shopping malls. While many feel exhausted in traffic congestion, he sees opportunity there.
“Eid means more money for us too. When cars stand still for a longer time, I get time to collect more alms,” said Hakim, flashing a gap-toothed grin.
He hopes to save Tk 400 this Eid to surprise his wife with a new sari from Gausia market. If luck doesn’t smile on him, he will try to manage it after Eid by begging a whole day at Azimpur graveyard, a popular spot for beggars.
Kajol, a mother of two, who hauls vegetables in Karwan Bazar, wishes for a zakat sari for herself and a lungi for her husband from businessmen.
“If the shopkeepers pay me some extra, I will buy frocks for my daughters — one aged five and the other eight. I look forward to spending Tk 50 for vermicelli and if I can save some more money for ghee, we will have pilau. I just want to make the day special for my family,” said Kajol, who sweats blood and tears trying to breathe life into her small house.
Sheuli, 17, who works at a tailoring shop in the capital’s Gausia market, picked up a hair barrette with Tk 20 from a pavement stall in front of the market.
Both of her parents died two years ago. She has since been on her own in the unforgiving city of Dhaka. She lives in a girls’ mess in Kamrangirchar.
Her hard-earned salary, which she got less than a week before Eid, is all hers to spend and she intends to liven up this Eid by shopping to look her best.
“I have bought a set of unstitched shalwar-kameez for Tk 500. The master tailor said if I finished my day’s work early, he would let me use a sewing machine late at night to make my Eid dress. I will wear it and go out with my friends,” she said.
Markets in and around the capital’s Farmgate, Gulistan, Motijheel, Mohammadpur and Chawkbazar have also been frequented by those with constricted wallets.
A shopkeeper displaying a variety of sandals under a large sheet of tarpaulin on a footpath in Farmgate said the speciality of his footwear is that they are very cheap and sturdy.
“None of the sandals here cost more than Tk 150 because I bring them directly from factories in Old Dhaka. Women of almost all classes buy from me. The well-off buy them for casual wear while garment workers and people like them spend much time in choosing their footwear as those would be their only pairs,” he said.
Yet there are those for whom providence has a greater plan and has not granted an Eid this year.
Single mother Rokeya looks at Eid in despair. Her sadness stems from the realities around her.
“I have two sons and the younger one is too little to talk. His birth left me too sick and weak for work. I have not worked since the Ramadan started. My elder son begs on the streets and tries to meet our ends from that. He is also too young to understand why kids of others will have new clothes in Eid and they won’t,” said the mother, trying to hide a deep sigh.
-With The Daily Star input
