Once upon a Bakra

Once upon a time around Bakra Eid, my family was visiting Nana Jee’s house in northern areas of Pakistan. There, houses are nearby and always open to family and friends. I was found, happily playing, all day long at my cousin’s. Since eid was around the corner, like me, some Bakras were also temporary residents of their household.

Among them was a beautiful white one which was my favourite. I was thin enough to ride him, and we would often do the short trip over to Nana jee’s place. He was the strong silent type- Nonchalant and in-different, as long as he was well-fed. I spent many long summer afternoons walking, feeding and playing with him.

On the eve before Bakra Eid, I couldn’t seem to say goodbye. Although I understood it was time to let go, but that didn’t make it any easier. I cried my eyes out, hugging him with all my force. He looked at me with beady eyes and bleated as if to say “ WuZ Up guRl? YuH oK? ” (at least that’s what it sounds like in my head right now!) Anyway, eventually I was taken back home.

That night while I was sleeping, A strange commotion woke me up. I went outside to find my Bakra running around the veranda, trying to escape Mamoo Jaan. Somehow, he had broken free and managed to flee.

Not just that, he had come after ME!

You know, It’s a Big deal for a Little girl when she learns her Bakra loves her back.
I didn’t go to watch Qurabni the next day nor did I ever love a bakra the same way again.

That year though, in some way, I began to understand the core concept of Bakra eid.
Making attachments and letting go!
Nurturing and letting go!
Loving and letting go!
And MOST importantly, Knowing with full certainty, what we’ve lost will be returned to us by the Almighty; in a purer, better form.
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Kind of like my Bakra, who was given back to me. The day after Eid. In Mutton Biryani.

🤭