To all devout Muslims –

Those who do not see Eid merely as a day of celebration, but are aware of its spiritual and social dimensions.

Today, the holy Eid is being celebrated across the Muslim world, including the United Kingdom. At the beginning of this column, I extend my greetings and Eid Mubarak to all readers of Voice of the People and to people of all classes.

Eid—the very word evokes images of joyful faces, new clothes, friendly gatherings, and sweet smiles. Yet beneath this visible joy lies a deeper meaning. ‘Eid’ means festival, and ‘Fitr’ means breaking. The true essence of Eid al-Fitr is breaking the restraint after a month of fasting and returning to joy. It is not merely the pleasure of eating; it is a day of self-awakening, purification, and the reaffirmation of humanity.

The celebration of Eid began in the era of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). After the Hijrah to Medina, in the 2nd Hijri year (624 CE), Muslims celebrated Eid for the first time. Since then, the two Eids—Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha—have been established as major social and spiritual events in Islam. The Prophet (PBUH) shared the joy of Eid with people of all ages and especially spent time with children. After the Battle of Badr, Muslims celebrated the first Eid al-Fitr, a celebration intertwined with the joy of the victory of truth.

In Bangladesh, the roots of Eid celebrations among Muslims primarily came through Sufi dervishes and Turkish-Arab merchants. According to historical accounts, in 341 Hijri (941 CE), Sheikhul Khida arrived in Dhaka. Later, during the era of Shah Sultan Rumi in Netrokona and Baba Adam Shaheed Sen, Islam was further propagated, and the continuity of religious festivals was established. From this time, the practices of fasting, prayer, and Eid celebrations began in Bengal.

Under Muslim rulers in Bengal, Eid became more grandiose. The first permanent Eidgah in Dhaka was constructed in 1640 at Dhanmandir, known as the “Shahi Eidgah,” commissioned by Subadar Shah Suza of Bengal. Nobles, high-ranking officials, and the public gathered there to perform prayers and participate in celebrations. To enliven Eid festivities, Nawab Murshid Quli Khan in 1729 distributed wealth among ordinary people during the celebration of the Tripura conquest, reflecting the core spirit of Eid—sharing, compassion, and care for the poor.

During the Nawabi era, Eid was a vast social gathering. The processions began from Nimtali Palace, passed through Chawk Bazaar and Hoseni Dalan, and returned to the palace. Money was distributed among common people along the streets, and fireworks lit up the evening until midnight—integral parts of Eid. People gathered along the Buriganga River to sight the moon. After seeing the moon from the Nawab’s palace terrace, cannons, sirens, and horns welcomed Eid.

The joy of Eid was not limited to external festivities. Moon sighting, new clothes, fireworks, and food arrangements were all intertwined with social bonding. Waiting for Eid on the last day of Ramadan with friends and relatives, praying together, hosting guests—these practices touched the very essence of our culture.

However, in today’s world, technology, consumerism, and the busyness of modern life have somewhat diminished the traditional spirit of Eid. Eid is now largely limited to television, mobile phones, or social media. The tradition of direct interaction with family, neighbors, and friends has decreased. In this context, the true essence of Eid becomes even more relevant—the restoration of self-restraint, compassion, and humanity.

Eid reminds us that the joy of this single day is not just for ourselves. It also calls attention to our social responsibilities. Zakat al-Fitr ensures that the poor are not deprived of the joy of Eid. In other words, Eid is not only about celebration but also a symbol of compassion.

Today, March 20, while our Muslim world, including the United Kingdom, celebrates the joy of Eid, the Middle East is witnessing extreme tensions over oil conflicts. On one hand, there is the joy of spiritual purification and Eid festivities; on the other, people tremble in insecurity amid political interests, economic crises, and power struggles. Amid the moon sighting and the smiles of celebration, this reality reminds us that Eid is not merely a day of personal joy but a symbol of peace, compassion, and justice. The fact that in some parts of the world, people cannot safely celebrate Eid today compels us to be more responsible and humane.

Thus, we should embrace Eid not merely as a day of new clothes, food, or entertainment, but as a day of self-awakening. By sustaining the restraint, honesty, and humanity cultivated during Ramadan throughout the rest of the year, every day can become as joyful as Eid. History teaches us that Eid is not merely a festival—it is a celebration of self-purification, social bonding, and the triumph of truth.

Author: Editor, Columnist, Analyst & Former Lecturer, London, March 20, 2026