Fatima Jahan Ena

I navigate my way through the sweating mass, elbowing pale, faceless figures clad with clanging ornaments. Occasionally, I trip on silky fabrics of a myriad of colours, which triggers a groan from some nasal-voiced aunty or looks of disapproval from moustachioed uncles.

Childhood memories usually stay in the perimeter of family trips, having fun with friends, the first time doing something we're not supposed to do and would most certainly get in trouble for, getting the highest marks on an exam, etc.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” — the one question that plagued our childhoods. Somewhere along the line, the answers changed from becoming an astronaut to becoming a doctor who does charity work on the side to even more elaborate, albeit comparatively tamer, plans of where to study for university and picking out a major that has lesser odds of resulting in unemployment.

The onset of Eid-ul-Azha brings forth a season filled with excitement, merriment, respect, and charity. Family members and friends alike come out and enjoy the festivities (mainly the food) and with it begins the waves of social events and dawats.

Growing up, I've been privileged enough to have had the opportunity to travel to many exotic places. The city streets bursting with creatures from all walks of life in Thailand, the tranquil hillsides of Nepal, the haunting frozen foods aisle of a Walmart at 3am in Nowhere, Florida.