We're in sthlm celebrating Eid for the first time in a million years, on a gorgeous summer day. My mum's apartment is filled with the scent of her most well-loved dishes: her special and incredibly fragrant polau or pilaf, lamb rezala, her mother's most luxurious chicken korma, her simple but spectacular salad, the most delicious payesh I know of. The ginger is currently being dressed in a sari while I'm on the phone waiting in IKEA's interminable customer service queue. We've spent the day talking about old memories. Took a short trip to my dad's place; he'd made an attempt to procure traditional Bengali sweets for the occasion and it was fun hanging out with everyone there even though it wasn't as festive b/c they don't really celebrate Eid like Bengals. I believe there will be anything from 30 to 40 people in my mum's modestly sized apartment tonight, which might prove to be a bit of a shock for my wife, who grew up in northern Sweden (where people are very serious about personal space and avoiding crowding). Bengals have no such concerns.
On this day, I hope you find a moment of peace and a moment for quiet reflection--and I hope that the remaining moments are full of good food, boisterous company and a sense of community. peace out