“In the last few days of Ramzan, the streets of the Old City feel special. Even late at night, the lanes are packed—everyone out shopping, greeting each other, with the smell of attar everywhere. After a whole month of fasting, you can see that tired but happy look on people’s faces.

Today I brought my son along for prayers, all dressed in his new Eid kapde. He isn’t bothered about the rush at all. For him, the real excitement is meeting his cousins and quietly counting how much Eidi he’ll collect.

Before Eid namaz, we make sure Zakat is given. In our neighborhood, people usually know who needs help—it’s understood without saying much. When I was young, my father used to bring me to these same streets near Charminar. I still remember holding his hand and looking up at the lights. Now I am the one carrying my own child here. Some things move forward like that. On Eid morning we wear new clothes, offer prayers, and spend the day going from one house to another—hugs, sweets, laughter. Somehow, the Sheer Khurma always tastes better when it comes from a neighbour’s house.

Festivals come every year, but the things you learn from it and the memories you make this month stay with you. I just want my son to grow up feeling connected to all of this.”