By Shafkat Aziz Hajam

The days before Eid al-Azha feel different in Kashmir. The air thickens with scent of livestock, of grass crushed under hooves, of wet wool, and of mouthwatering delicacies.

In the villages and towns, from the banks of Jhelum to the orchards of Shopian, animals are tethered near doorsteps. Children name them, feed them, sometimes grow attached. But everyone knows the moment is coming.

It always begins with the moon. Once sighted, everything moves. Tailors stay open late. Men visit butchers and brokers. Women count savings tucked into shawls. The streets get busy, but not noisy. Kashmir knows how to move calmly, especially during sacred days.

Eid al-Azha is not just a ritual here. It’s a conversation with God that echoes through generations. People know the story well: the Prophet Ibrahim, the dream, the knife, the son, the divine replacement. But the story means more in a place like Kashmir. Where lives are shaped by strife, sacrifice isn’t just a lesson. It’s a lived thing.

On the first morning of Eid, prayers spill out from mosques and Eidgahs into open spaces. Men in white, boys in crisp kurtas, rows forming on dewy grass. The imams speak of faith, of obedience, of the love between a father and........

© Kashmir Observer