Henna was a very serious Eid tradition in my household. Some of my earliest memories are of my mom and cousins gathering around the dinner table, sketches of designs spread out on a makeshift tablecloth made of worn out newspaper.
Ours was a women majority family - my mom, aunt, her two daughters and I lived on the third floor of a house next to a little forest. A little forest where we had sighted both slimy little garden snakes and the first mango of the season.
As an adult, Eid started to look different. I lost any sense of niceties around holidays. From spending the day doing client lunches across the country to being in transit, the most I could prioritize was a squeezed in trip to New York and a lunch at my mom’s. But in my late twenties, I am realizing how lovely it is to hold onto some of these childhood traditions.
For the first time, I bought henna (S/O azrahenna) and stayed up past midnight to put it on. And woke up my little sister early in the morning to do the same for her. It may not have been the chaos of chand raat with the community that I’ve also grown to love, but something about reinforcing a lost tradition in our household…for the next daughter in the family, felt like closing a loop.
I grew up watching my aunts roll henna leaves into a paste. We’d pick up a little ball with our bare hands and shape them into perfect circles with toothpicks. Our fingertips would stand as testament to the staining process. Something about it was deeply loving.
Henna is an act of love.
As Abeera Kamran puts it, Henna is latent with the sensual, even erotic? But also, most importantly henna affords rest. People with henna on their hands and feet are taking a break from the labor that comes with entertaining guests the next day.
What’s an old childhood tradition you want to revive?
This year we celebrated two of my favorites one after another - Eid & Bengali new year.
Eid mubarak and shubho noboborsho, my dearest friends. We hit a 102 members of this email list, thank you for staying on for my musings and scattered thoughts.
Eid Mubarak and shovo nobo borsho, Aaisha <3 thank you for writing up such a lovely piece. I pray that the coming Eids feel as homely and warm as the Eids we spent at our Nanu bari with our Mamas and Khalas and cousins.
Growing up is so bittersweet; as happy as we are to be here, we wish we could go back in time and just relive all the memories once again. May Allah bless our elders for putting effort into making Eid a festive and beautiful occasion for all of us. Ameen!