Baqr Eid
BAQR EID
The Muslim eid festival
2468
Zhilhaj 10, 1424
There are very few things as enriched in Pakistani culture as Baqr-Eid. Quite literally Cow’s Eid, from the Arabic Baqr, it is a huge misnomer from the animal’s point of view, after all they are the ones who get righteously sacrificed on this festive occasion. In the Muslim world, this Eid is called Eid-ul-Adha and usually some sort of a quadruped ends up being sacrificed. This being the driving difference between the two Eids. But there are more then one I can try to clear up the confusion.
Eid-ul-Fitr, also known as Choti(small) Eid, is a bigger event then the Baqr or Bari (bigger) Eid. The former is a puritanical Muslim festival and occurs after the end of Ramazan (Ramadan for Arabists). The Islamic calendar is based on the lunar calendar and so Eid is decided on the new moon sighting, the proverbial crescent moon of a chand raat. Adults and children climb rooftops and stand on their toes to see the sliver of a moon floating nonchalantly through the smog and electric wires of the city. The theologians of the majlis-shoora committee clamber up to Habib Bank Plaza’s 20th story, Pakistan’s only skyscraper for the first sighting. But usually the moon eludes them and is firstly observed in Mardan in Northern Pakistan, which is ironically, renowned for its excellent opium production. This moon is symbolic of Islam, from the Red Crescent to the Disney’s troika of all things evil, like hooked noses, bad Arab accents and an evil crescent moon. But in the Muslim world, it is a joyous event.
On Eid day, it is customary to go to the Jama Masjid (mosque) for a special Eid prayer. If you are late, you will find seating on the road, as space in marbled courtyard is gone. The Maulvi sermon will be on the lack of Zakat (charity) and dangers of Zionism. They have still not figured out that it is not healthy to whine on Eid day. All this one digests sitting under a hot sun, dreaming about Parathas.
On returning home, the men are greeted by screaming urchins chasing them for Eidi and steal glances at girls dressed up in glitzy clothes, with jingling bangles on their wrists and artistic henna designs on their palms. New brides act sharmeeli (coy) in front of their husbands like celestial princesses. Pious folks stuff themselves silly after fasting during the month of Ramzan. Sweets, confectionaries and milky vermicelli deserts topped with almonds and pistachios (Sheer Khorma) are served with pride by every household. All are welcome, even annoying relatives and sycophant subordinates. Side effects are giving Eidi and meeting relatives who want to talk about their cornea operations.
Eid-Ul-Azha or Bakr-Eid is on the tenth day of Dhul-Hijjah, just after the holy pilgrimage of Hajj. Based on the Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition of Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son for his faith. As the Muslims say . . .
Long, long ago, a child was born to the Prophet Abraham and his second wife, Hagar. The baby's name was Ishmael and, when he was born, he was Abraham's only son. In those days, it was not unusual for a man to have two wives. Abraham's first wife was named Sarah. She had no children, and this made her sad. But God told Abraham that one day, Sarah too would have a son. He would be named Isaac. Ishmael and Isaac were to be the ancestors of two great nations and three great religions. The nations were the Arabs and the Jews. Which son is asked to sacrifice and which one is the legitimate son is of course the basis of the argument between Islam and Judaism.
But at the last moment, the son (Ishameal for Muslims, Issac for Jews) is replaced by a lamb. Therefore, it is important that one should love a quadruped (chickens don’t qualify), and then on faith alone it is ceremoniously slaughtered and the meat distributed equally between the poor and relatives/neighbors.
Choosing between Eids is difficult, but I must admit I myself am partial to Baqr Eid. This is because rather then being preceded by a month of fasting, an agragarian concept, Baqr Eid is preceded by a month of a nomadic unrest. This is because of gathering the money, then hunting the animal, loving the animal and then slaughtering it.
The gathering part was for some the hardest. The festive occasion is usually overshadowed by the tensions in the house. Fathers would try their best to convince wives that one Bakra would suffice. Wives would howl in anger,
“3 sons and you do one Bakra!”
The retort would be, “ Why not a hissa (part) in a cow?”
But then doing a cow means that no butchery in the house, therefore no sumptuous goat meat. According to the way and means committee of the economical Islamic thinking, if goats and sheep are expensive, 7 people can share a cow, or a camel. Most years husbands would lose this debate, but every year the goats got smaller and smaller. As we grew up, we always had one person who we could do one-upmanship with, that would be my grand father. Every year, we would hear his tales of enchantment and wonder about how as a young man he bought a Bakra and had money left over to treat his friends, all for 2 rupees. Working with this mindset, we could rest assured that no matter how miniature our Bakras were, his would be smaller.
But aside from the monetary situation, the whole concept going to market to buy a goat was one that I looked forward to every year. This was appeasing to the hunter hidden deep in my conscience under layers of Kaleji meat (liver). It started by a sojourn to exotic places like Bakra Peeri (Goat Market), well outside the city limits. Or in the most visibly disturbing organic landfills like sabzi mandi (vegetable market). For the convenience of the educated and pampered elite and their profit, enterprising goat herders would sometime camp in various roundabouts of the city, thereby depleting the meager fauna of the city. This resulted in goats everywhere, as well as their pellet like droppings.
Anyone who has grown up on a farm in America can identify with the particular smell of goats and sheep in a slaughterhouse. Growing up in Pakistan, my exposure to such perfumery was on goat buying trips, it was after all a masculine endeavor, but the ones I remembered most were with men like Yousuf the building contractor, who zipped along on his Vespa scooter, with a sheep under his arm. Or Khan, a mustachioed security guard who instructed me to make my puppy drink fresh goat blood, “It would make him courageous”. And, Arif our company driver, a hormonal single male who looked at goats in an eerie loving way. In the company of such men, I would go into these exciting locales smelling of goat droppings, dried hays, cow dung, flies and other sources for ample production of methane gas, which overlay the Bakra Peeri like a mushroom cloud.
Islam forbids the goat to be a pregnant female or an injured animal. Additionally, a two tooth Bakra has juicier meat then a 4 tooth older Bakra. Last but not least, there is an Andoo versus a khasi debate. Andoo being a castrated male goat, which has not testosterone so the meat is juicier, while a mountain reared Billy goat, with its wispy beard, pointy horns and tougher meat is more organic. To check all this requires a stealthy eye and a quick hand. Firstly the buyer has too pull the poor Bakra by it ears and hold its mouth open,
“How many teeth, eh?”
“No, I want a young one, only two teeth.”
Trust me dear readers, nothing is more disgusting then the gums of a garbage eating Bakra. The second test requires whether the Bakra can walk on its feet, and has no visible injury. This walk is required for the goat to carry the pious Muslim across the pul-sarat, which is the razor thin bridge connecting the passage to heaven. If your goat falters you land in hell. One can only imagine the state of the poor goat as it carries the over weight corrupt officials to their destination, with the ghouls screaming for their blood.
Once the bakara has proven his ability to transport his owner on the catwalk to hell, one has to reach behind and grab the Bakra’s testicles to ensure that a) it is a male, b) it is an Andoo or Pahari and c) it is not a female. Goat pregnancy kits have not gained popularity in Pakistan, so the test is usually a look and feel test. None the less, some households have had an emergency declared at 11:00 pm on chand raat, once it is discovered that the deal of a lifetime turns out to be a pregnant female. This requires going back to the Bakra peeri at night and hunting for the son-of a bitch who sold you the goat.
If a goat is to your liking then the bargaining starts. There are several ways to start bargaining. One can act aloof and ornery and walk away. That can backfire if it is a good deal. The other is too be friendly and chummy. Nothing is more laughable then a Urdu speaking guy trying to mimic the accent of a Balochi herder or a suited booted Sahib putting his hand around a poor herder and calling him a Bhai (brother). If nothing else worked, once can act all business like and start flashing money. That usually works. In some cases Badmashi is used, threatening the herder, but be warned. One has to be with armed guards and spot a big moustache. Incidentally, some folks lament the high prices and start shouting at the herder. “You guys are thief, this is an Islamic practice, you make it heresy you infidel, son of a scorpion”. Episodes like that end up with the herder gesturing his meanest mountain goat to ram the angry party’s behind, making fall over backward in the cesspool of goat droppings.
Transporting the goat is a feat of strength. Although, Vespa scooters and Rickshaws have seen there use drop, the usual mode operandi is a Suzuki mini-van. This 800 cc work horse is filled to the brink with braying goats, it’s a wonder not all goats are lame by the time they get dropped of at their respective houses. The struggle to fit goats in cars trunks is sometime too horrifying to watch, while one can only pity the two goats and a man squeezed in a motor rickshaw.
At home, the goats are fed with choice feed. Kids play with them and brush their coats. Rich kids get bragging rights as they parade the biggest bakra (goat) in the neighborhood. Goats are usually docile animals, but if you have two male goats, one can have a head butting contest. Some unscrupulous adults start taking in bets on which one will win. All kids love goats, that is part of a the celestial plan, as the intent is to love the animal and sacrifice it to God. It also brings one closer to the true nature of being a carnivore, thereby laying out loud and clear the lifecycle of the cellophane wrapped fillet and pasandays.
On the day of the Eid, after the prayers, another hunt starts. The hunt for a real Qasai (butcher). Since the whole city is teeming with goats, and most people are not equipped mentally or physically to slit a goats throat, the need and rates of a true butcher go sky high. Following the Keynesian economics principles, where there is demand there will be supply, every able bodied man looking for work can be a Qasai. What is required is raggedy blood stained clothes, a cleaver, a sharp knife one, a wooden block and a packet of Red & white filter cigarettes. Armed with this one can just stand at a street corner in an affluent neighborhood and be picked up quicker then a Hijra (transvestite) in Clifton at midnight.
A screeching car will halt, cutting off competitors and the question will be asked,
“How much?”
The correct reply is for what?
“Bakra you idiot, two of them,”
“300 a piece.”
“What that’s half the price of a Bakra.
“Then go find another” and muttering under the breath “Not my problems if you buy rabbits”.
The one outstanding problem is that these novice butchers are totally devoid of any skill. This is usually noticed by the women in the household, who it seems spend their time finding ways to ridicule men for their stupidities. The first whispers will start like this,
“Aray, what is he doing, you are supposed to skin it first.”
This would hold their attention and the husband will start making his way to the bathroom with the newspaper.
“Ohey, he is not hanging the poor goat. Your father is an idiot, why he did not get our regular butcher, saving money. These men can never do anything right”
Then the shrieking will start which will lead to them scolding the now completely confused amateur Butcher.
“Leave it alone you idiot, you already burst the intestine inside, all the meat is dirty. Go away. Don’t touch that goat. Go now.”
By this time, the Sahib of the house is locked in the bathroom, trying to build up his courage to face the badgering. And thanking God, Baqr-Eid only comes once a year.
However, these minor troubles and shameless butchery aside. Eid-U-Bakar is a fun event. One does gets less Eidi, sometimes no new clothes, and there in no crescent moon. However, the Bakra makes up for all that. Urban kids starved of any animal interaction try to train Bakras, dress them in clothes and pamper them like domesticated animals. On the fateful day they perform a symbolic throat slit by passing a knife over its neck. Then they are taken inside sniffing as they hear the braying of a goat being held under the knees of a Qasai. Soon the whole household enjoys the smells of a slaughterhouse for a few days and the neighborhood enjoys the flies swarming on the entrails for a few weeks. Inside there is the sizzling smells of spicy Gurda & Kaleji (liver and kidneys) at lunch time. At night, there are Boti Kababs, leg of lamb, and various other salans (curries). Fresh meat always tastes better, especially when images of the poor animal float in your mind, the forlorn eye as it chews the green grass. Knowing what it takes to make that sumptuous kabab, children either boycott the meat or finish every morsel. Which is indeed a valuable lesson.
The Muslim eid festival
2468
Zhilhaj 10, 1424
There are very few things as enriched in Pakistani culture as Baqr-Eid. Quite literally Cow’s Eid, from the Arabic Baqr, it is a huge misnomer from the animal’s point of view, after all they are the ones who get righteously sacrificed on this festive occasion. In the Muslim world, this Eid is called Eid-ul-Adha and usually some sort of a quadruped ends up being sacrificed. This being the driving difference between the two Eids. But there are more then one I can try to clear up the confusion.
Eid-ul-Fitr, also known as Choti(small) Eid, is a bigger event then the Baqr or Bari (bigger) Eid. The former is a puritanical Muslim festival and occurs after the end of Ramazan (Ramadan for Arabists). The Islamic calendar is based on the lunar calendar and so Eid is decided on the new moon sighting, the proverbial crescent moon of a chand raat. Adults and children climb rooftops and stand on their toes to see the sliver of a moon floating nonchalantly through the smog and electric wires of the city. The theologians of the majlis-shoora committee clamber up to Habib Bank Plaza’s 20th story, Pakistan’s only skyscraper for the first sighting. But usually the moon eludes them and is firstly observed in Mardan in Northern Pakistan, which is ironically, renowned for its excellent opium production. This moon is symbolic of Islam, from the Red Crescent to the Disney’s troika of all things evil, like hooked noses, bad Arab accents and an evil crescent moon. But in the Muslim world, it is a joyous event.
On Eid day, it is customary to go to the Jama Masjid (mosque) for a special Eid prayer. If you are late, you will find seating on the road, as space in marbled courtyard is gone. The Maulvi sermon will be on the lack of Zakat (charity) and dangers of Zionism. They have still not figured out that it is not healthy to whine on Eid day. All this one digests sitting under a hot sun, dreaming about Parathas.
On returning home, the men are greeted by screaming urchins chasing them for Eidi and steal glances at girls dressed up in glitzy clothes, with jingling bangles on their wrists and artistic henna designs on their palms. New brides act sharmeeli (coy) in front of their husbands like celestial princesses. Pious folks stuff themselves silly after fasting during the month of Ramzan. Sweets, confectionaries and milky vermicelli deserts topped with almonds and pistachios (Sheer Khorma) are served with pride by every household. All are welcome, even annoying relatives and sycophant subordinates. Side effects are giving Eidi and meeting relatives who want to talk about their cornea operations.
Eid-Ul-Azha or Bakr-Eid is on the tenth day of Dhul-Hijjah, just after the holy pilgrimage of Hajj. Based on the Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition of Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son for his faith. As the Muslims say . . .
Long, long ago, a child was born to the Prophet Abraham and his second wife, Hagar. The baby's name was Ishmael and, when he was born, he was Abraham's only son. In those days, it was not unusual for a man to have two wives. Abraham's first wife was named Sarah. She had no children, and this made her sad. But God told Abraham that one day, Sarah too would have a son. He would be named Isaac. Ishmael and Isaac were to be the ancestors of two great nations and three great religions. The nations were the Arabs and the Jews. Which son is asked to sacrifice and which one is the legitimate son is of course the basis of the argument between Islam and Judaism.
But at the last moment, the son (Ishameal for Muslims, Issac for Jews) is replaced by a lamb. Therefore, it is important that one should love a quadruped (chickens don’t qualify), and then on faith alone it is ceremoniously slaughtered and the meat distributed equally between the poor and relatives/neighbors.
Choosing between Eids is difficult, but I must admit I myself am partial to Baqr Eid. This is because rather then being preceded by a month of fasting, an agragarian concept, Baqr Eid is preceded by a month of a nomadic unrest. This is because of gathering the money, then hunting the animal, loving the animal and then slaughtering it.
The gathering part was for some the hardest. The festive occasion is usually overshadowed by the tensions in the house. Fathers would try their best to convince wives that one Bakra would suffice. Wives would howl in anger,
“3 sons and you do one Bakra!”
The retort would be, “ Why not a hissa (part) in a cow?”
But then doing a cow means that no butchery in the house, therefore no sumptuous goat meat. According to the way and means committee of the economical Islamic thinking, if goats and sheep are expensive, 7 people can share a cow, or a camel. Most years husbands would lose this debate, but every year the goats got smaller and smaller. As we grew up, we always had one person who we could do one-upmanship with, that would be my grand father. Every year, we would hear his tales of enchantment and wonder about how as a young man he bought a Bakra and had money left over to treat his friends, all for 2 rupees. Working with this mindset, we could rest assured that no matter how miniature our Bakras were, his would be smaller.
But aside from the monetary situation, the whole concept going to market to buy a goat was one that I looked forward to every year. This was appeasing to the hunter hidden deep in my conscience under layers of Kaleji meat (liver). It started by a sojourn to exotic places like Bakra Peeri (Goat Market), well outside the city limits. Or in the most visibly disturbing organic landfills like sabzi mandi (vegetable market). For the convenience of the educated and pampered elite and their profit, enterprising goat herders would sometime camp in various roundabouts of the city, thereby depleting the meager fauna of the city. This resulted in goats everywhere, as well as their pellet like droppings.
Anyone who has grown up on a farm in America can identify with the particular smell of goats and sheep in a slaughterhouse. Growing up in Pakistan, my exposure to such perfumery was on goat buying trips, it was after all a masculine endeavor, but the ones I remembered most were with men like Yousuf the building contractor, who zipped along on his Vespa scooter, with a sheep under his arm. Or Khan, a mustachioed security guard who instructed me to make my puppy drink fresh goat blood, “It would make him courageous”. And, Arif our company driver, a hormonal single male who looked at goats in an eerie loving way. In the company of such men, I would go into these exciting locales smelling of goat droppings, dried hays, cow dung, flies and other sources for ample production of methane gas, which overlay the Bakra Peeri like a mushroom cloud.
Islam forbids the goat to be a pregnant female or an injured animal. Additionally, a two tooth Bakra has juicier meat then a 4 tooth older Bakra. Last but not least, there is an Andoo versus a khasi debate. Andoo being a castrated male goat, which has not testosterone so the meat is juicier, while a mountain reared Billy goat, with its wispy beard, pointy horns and tougher meat is more organic. To check all this requires a stealthy eye and a quick hand. Firstly the buyer has too pull the poor Bakra by it ears and hold its mouth open,
“How many teeth, eh?”
“No, I want a young one, only two teeth.”
Trust me dear readers, nothing is more disgusting then the gums of a garbage eating Bakra. The second test requires whether the Bakra can walk on its feet, and has no visible injury. This walk is required for the goat to carry the pious Muslim across the pul-sarat, which is the razor thin bridge connecting the passage to heaven. If your goat falters you land in hell. One can only imagine the state of the poor goat as it carries the over weight corrupt officials to their destination, with the ghouls screaming for their blood.
Once the bakara has proven his ability to transport his owner on the catwalk to hell, one has to reach behind and grab the Bakra’s testicles to ensure that a) it is a male, b) it is an Andoo or Pahari and c) it is not a female. Goat pregnancy kits have not gained popularity in Pakistan, so the test is usually a look and feel test. None the less, some households have had an emergency declared at 11:00 pm on chand raat, once it is discovered that the deal of a lifetime turns out to be a pregnant female. This requires going back to the Bakra peeri at night and hunting for the son-of a bitch who sold you the goat.
If a goat is to your liking then the bargaining starts. There are several ways to start bargaining. One can act aloof and ornery and walk away. That can backfire if it is a good deal. The other is too be friendly and chummy. Nothing is more laughable then a Urdu speaking guy trying to mimic the accent of a Balochi herder or a suited booted Sahib putting his hand around a poor herder and calling him a Bhai (brother). If nothing else worked, once can act all business like and start flashing money. That usually works. In some cases Badmashi is used, threatening the herder, but be warned. One has to be with armed guards and spot a big moustache. Incidentally, some folks lament the high prices and start shouting at the herder. “You guys are thief, this is an Islamic practice, you make it heresy you infidel, son of a scorpion”. Episodes like that end up with the herder gesturing his meanest mountain goat to ram the angry party’s behind, making fall over backward in the cesspool of goat droppings.
Transporting the goat is a feat of strength. Although, Vespa scooters and Rickshaws have seen there use drop, the usual mode operandi is a Suzuki mini-van. This 800 cc work horse is filled to the brink with braying goats, it’s a wonder not all goats are lame by the time they get dropped of at their respective houses. The struggle to fit goats in cars trunks is sometime too horrifying to watch, while one can only pity the two goats and a man squeezed in a motor rickshaw.
At home, the goats are fed with choice feed. Kids play with them and brush their coats. Rich kids get bragging rights as they parade the biggest bakra (goat) in the neighborhood. Goats are usually docile animals, but if you have two male goats, one can have a head butting contest. Some unscrupulous adults start taking in bets on which one will win. All kids love goats, that is part of a the celestial plan, as the intent is to love the animal and sacrifice it to God. It also brings one closer to the true nature of being a carnivore, thereby laying out loud and clear the lifecycle of the cellophane wrapped fillet and pasandays.
On the day of the Eid, after the prayers, another hunt starts. The hunt for a real Qasai (butcher). Since the whole city is teeming with goats, and most people are not equipped mentally or physically to slit a goats throat, the need and rates of a true butcher go sky high. Following the Keynesian economics principles, where there is demand there will be supply, every able bodied man looking for work can be a Qasai. What is required is raggedy blood stained clothes, a cleaver, a sharp knife one, a wooden block and a packet of Red & white filter cigarettes. Armed with this one can just stand at a street corner in an affluent neighborhood and be picked up quicker then a Hijra (transvestite) in Clifton at midnight.
A screeching car will halt, cutting off competitors and the question will be asked,
“How much?”
The correct reply is for what?
“Bakra you idiot, two of them,”
“300 a piece.”
“What that’s half the price of a Bakra.
“Then go find another” and muttering under the breath “Not my problems if you buy rabbits”.
The one outstanding problem is that these novice butchers are totally devoid of any skill. This is usually noticed by the women in the household, who it seems spend their time finding ways to ridicule men for their stupidities. The first whispers will start like this,
“Aray, what is he doing, you are supposed to skin it first.”
This would hold their attention and the husband will start making his way to the bathroom with the newspaper.
“Ohey, he is not hanging the poor goat. Your father is an idiot, why he did not get our regular butcher, saving money. These men can never do anything right”
Then the shrieking will start which will lead to them scolding the now completely confused amateur Butcher.
“Leave it alone you idiot, you already burst the intestine inside, all the meat is dirty. Go away. Don’t touch that goat. Go now.”
By this time, the Sahib of the house is locked in the bathroom, trying to build up his courage to face the badgering. And thanking God, Baqr-Eid only comes once a year.
However, these minor troubles and shameless butchery aside. Eid-U-Bakar is a fun event. One does gets less Eidi, sometimes no new clothes, and there in no crescent moon. However, the Bakra makes up for all that. Urban kids starved of any animal interaction try to train Bakras, dress them in clothes and pamper them like domesticated animals. On the fateful day they perform a symbolic throat slit by passing a knife over its neck. Then they are taken inside sniffing as they hear the braying of a goat being held under the knees of a Qasai. Soon the whole household enjoys the smells of a slaughterhouse for a few days and the neighborhood enjoys the flies swarming on the entrails for a few weeks. Inside there is the sizzling smells of spicy Gurda & Kaleji (liver and kidneys) at lunch time. At night, there are Boti Kababs, leg of lamb, and various other salans (curries). Fresh meat always tastes better, especially when images of the poor animal float in your mind, the forlorn eye as it chews the green grass. Knowing what it takes to make that sumptuous kabab, children either boycott the meat or finish every morsel. Which is indeed a valuable lesson.
posted by Samurai Zauq at 5:54 PM
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