Moonstruck!

On Chand Raat, women are out to spend, and spend they will at any cost.

Through Ramazan, I struggle with attempts to fulfill my religious duties and obligations along with unbelievably short banking hours, people with a holier-than-thou attitude, short tempers and a tendency to consider it their birthright to interfere and comment on your beliefs; crazy traffic and as one co-worker pointed out, hordes of hungry people rushing to go home at iftar.

The best thing is that Ramazan culminates into Chand Raat. There is a magical festivity in the air. At times it seems, as if people are celebrating the fact that they don’t have to go hungry anymore nor put themselves through an endurance test. Sadly, they soon forget that the crash course in discipline was to train them for the year ahead.

On Chand Raat, chances are that it really doesn’t matter whether you need to or not, but especially if you’re a woman, you’ll find yourself in an already-crowded shopping mall browsing through jewelry, shoes, bangles and what not or haggling with a shop owner over the price of one. The sheer level of bargaining that takes place on Chand Raat is much more heated, intense and interesting than the fluctuations in the local stock market. The shop owners know that this is that one time of the year where they get to make as much money as they can and customers, fully aware of that, are hell-bent on making sure they don’t — at least off their purchases.

However, no matter what the price of the product or the relative stubbornness of the shop owner to stick to it, most women will never leave a shop empty-handed. On Chand Raat, they are out to spend, and spend they will at all costs.

One of the most delightful things about Chand Raat itself is the sheer abundance of women who sprout outside malls as expert henna artists, promising to apply the most exquisite designs on both your hands in 15 minutes flat. However, experience has taught that it is always wiser to stand and watch the designs unfold on someone else’s hands and then choose your artist accordingly.

Although known as the ideal place for women looking for traditional henna designs and application techniques, I strongly advise against going to Karachi’s Meena Bazaar on Chand Raat (or the day before Eid as well). The bazaar, which is off-limits for men, is full of women who wait for an unsuspecting customer to pounce on, as I once learnt several years ago.

Upon reaching the venue, even before you climb the stairs to where the bazaar is, you will be inundated by male relatives of the women working within Meena Bazaar, showing photo albums upon albums displaying pictures of either hands deeply decorated with henna or of women with extremely gaudy makeup (the white face, red checks, lips and eyes type) on with henna on their hands. The photos of the women are also shown if, God forbid, you happen to be there for getting hair and makeup done as well.

Take one step inside the bazaar and it takes less than 15 seconds for the first henna artist to grab your hand and proclaim loudly to the others that “Yeh mera haath hai” (this is my hand). Pretty soon you find yourself pushing through tens of artists reaching for both your hands, while others fight over who ‘saw it first’ and with some offering you shelter in their small shops provided they ‘get your hand’. By the time you, by some miracle of nature, manage to pull yourself out of there, you feel strangely violated.

Marketing personnel and firms producing consumer goods recognise the potential that Chand Raat holds for them. In agreement with certain popular shopping outlets, they will have put up small stalls with their products on display creating an ambience of a mini-fair. However, since they almost always encroach upon whatever available parking space there is, finding adequate parking near the shopping outlet itself becomes a nightmare.

Several years ago, a firm decided to go all the way when attempting to build a positive image for its brand. Hiring 15 or so henna artists at a designated place near a popular mall, just about anyone interested in having henna applied could get these artists’ services for free. It didn’t end there, every single ‘customer’ who had henna applied walked away with a set of bangles, courtesy of the firm itself. So what if they weren’t of the right colour or size? The gesture seemed to embody the spirit of Chand Raat itself, so what if the firm never ventured to be as generous in the following years?

The interesting thing about henna application on Chand Raat is that it goes on and on till the wee hours of the morning. Women, some of whom will be gaudily dressed, will arrive every couple of minutes demanding that the already-overworked and tired artist decorate their hands as well. Dutiful sons, husbands, boyfriends, fiancés etc., at their chivalrous best or what seems to be, will either stand alongside their womenfolk or wait in their cars for them to finish. And more often than not, will then carry their bags, shoes and handle their dupattas all the way to the car after the women are done.

Chand Raat ends when you come home and realise that Eid will bring with it dozens of guests knocking at your door right from morning. Not only does it imply that the house must be prepared to receive them at all hours, but also that local culinary delights symbolic of Eid such as dahi barey, doodh sawayan, chohlay etc., must be prepared in enough quantity to feed a little army.

Interestingly enough, Chand Raat, which marks the end of Ramazan also signals the beginning of Eid which is all about meeting people you haven’t met the entire year and forcibly stuffing yourself with every single piece of cooking conjured up in every single household you visit. That’s the spirit of Eid.

First Published:

The Magazine

October 13, 2007