Moments of joy and reflections on sadness: This is what Eid means to me

Being deprived of food and drink from sunrise to sunset can be mentally and physically exhausting. At these times, I am reminded of people who have it more difficult – of the 811 million people who go hungry every day

My memories of Eid are one of a grand affair (Reuters)

Today, Muslims around the world – including more than four million Muslims in the United Kingdom – celebrate Eid al-Fitr: the “festival of breaking the fast” marks the end of fasting during Ramadan after the sighting of the new crescent moon.

My memories of Eid are one of a grand affair: an elaborate feast, often featuring spiced meat on a steaming bed of rice, crispy samosas and honey-soaked baklava; new tailored outfits; older relatives handing out Eidyah – a gift of new banknotes – to children; “Eid Mubarak” greetings filling the room.

At such joyous moments, I cannot help but reflect on the past month. Being deprived of food and drink from sunrise to sunset can be mentally and physically exhausting. Maintaining energy without a sip of water becomes even more arduous as Ramadan progresses. At these times, I am reminded of people who have it more difficult – of the around 811 million people across the world still who go hungry every day.