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Eid: Not Just Art, But Act

_(Inspired by “EID — An Art or Act?” by Akinpelu Fatimoh)_

Eid, once a sacred culmination of obedience, sacrifice, and spiritual renewal, is increasingly becoming a display, curated more for the camera than the soul. In our modern expression of joy, we may have unintentionally drifted from the essence of what Eid truly represents. Between the lens and the likes, we risk reducing a deeply spiritual moment into an aesthetic performance.

Akinpelu Fatimoh’s reflective piece, “EID — An Art or Act?”, posed an important question that stirred something within: are we celebrating Eid as a sincere act of devotion, or merely turning it into an artistic production?

The poem below is a response, not just to that question, but to the growing disconnect we witness today. It challenges the outward glitter of Eid when it is unaccompanied by inward light. It calls us to pause, reflect, and return to the heart of Eid: submission, compassion, remembrance, and shared humanity.

*It is as thus:*

We dressed the morning in silken pride,

With brocade dreams and cars to ride.

Our feeds lit up, the ummah smiled,

But something holy… felt exiled.

Takbeer rang, but faint, not near,

Its echo drowned by what we wear.

Perfume replaced the scent of taqwah,

And posts replaced the Du’as of khushū‘a.

The prayer grounds filled! Yes, they did!,

But hearts? They wandered, veiled and hid.

Some came for photos, some for show,

Few for the Lamb, and fewer for the Bow.

What is Eid if not submission’s sigh,

A soul laid bare beneath Allah’s sky?

If not the moment we reflect and weep,

For what we sowed, and what we keep?

Was it the art — the grace, the feast,

Or the act — the kneeling of the beast?

Did we remember Hajar’s thirst,

Or was the styling more rehearsed?

The Eid of old wore simpler thread,

But truth and meaning it gently spread.

Now filters mask what hearts conceal,

And sacred days forget to feel.

How disheartening, seeing them flaunt,

Their Eid garments, yet hearts are blunt.

Something so sacred, now lost in wraith,

Lost to an era, where filters replace faith.

So pause,

Let joy not blind your view,

Let clothes not stitch a lie in you.

Let Eid be more than staged delight.

Let it be mercy. Let it be right.

Let it be meat shared, not wasted flair,

Let it be steps to the lonely, in prayer.

Let it be love without a lens,

Let it be where obedience bends.

For art fades quickly into dust,

But acts…

The sincere ones are what Allah wants.