Editorial

Dear Friends,

Assalamu alaikum. Hope happiness is hanging over your home as Eid arrives each year with the soft glow of a crescent moon and the familiar music of children’s laughter drifting across rooftops. In neighborhoods throughout Bangladesh, the sighting of the moon sparks a joyful race to announce its arrival and the song of National Poet Kazi Nazrul Islam-”O Mone Ramzaner Oi Rozar Sheshe Elo Khushir Eid” comes up the playlist. New clothes are laid out, shoes polished, and dreams rehearsed long before dawn breaks over the Eidgah. For a fleeting moment, differences of wealth and status dissolve as worshippers stand shoulder to shoulder in Eid prayer.

Yet Eid’s true measure lies not in festivity, but in empathy. Even within our cities and villages, there are children who greet the morning without new clothes or a festive meal. Some parents quietly sacrifice their own comforts so their children may smile. Others can offer little more than hope. Their longing is no different from that of the more fortunate. They, too, wait for the moon.

Beyond our borders, in Gaza, the crescent rises over broken homes and anxious skies. For many children there, celebration is overshadowed by uncertainty and loss. The contrast is painful, but it clarifies Eid’s deeper message: joy grows only when shared.

In an age of instant greetings and digital wishes, we must not forget the warmth of presence, generosity, and reconciliation. A portion of Eidi shared, a meal extended to a neighbor, a prayer offered for suffering children — these simple acts restore the spirit of Eid. And hoping for creating compassion among the readers, we have chosen the article as the cover story. Hope to return to you with another burning issue next month. Eid Mubarak.