Yesterday was Eid ul-Fitr here in Iraq, the day that marks the end of Ramadan, and a month of fasting. I’ve come to know it as “The Big Breakfast”.
The day starts with the normal prayers and then a small meal. People then gather in large congregational prayer sessions to greet each other in the spirit of peace and love. There are exchanges of gifts, hugs, and congratulations as Muslims emerge from a month of heavy effort and concentration on their faith.
Last night several large explosions around the city signified yet more senseless loss of life. Hand-made bombs designed to bring death and suffering killed someone’s son, daughter, father or mother; bombs made by Muslims to be used against their own. So much for the spirit of peace and love that Eid was supposed to evoke. I’ll never understand.