Essay from K. Sayyid Mubashir Hadhi

Young man of Arab heritage with a white collared shirt, clean shaven, and white headdress.

The Spiritual Essence of Eid al-Adha

Islam prescribes two major festivals each year as obligatory celebrations for the faithful. These are not mere social events, but golden opportunities granted by the Almighty Allah to attain divine blessings through prescribed acts of worship. The human spirit naturally longs for celebration, yet life’s responsibilities and hardships often make it difficult to indulge in joy without reason. In His mercy, Almighty Allah has granted us these special days, allowing moments of joy even amidst life’s trials.

A true believer should be able to draw spiritual nourishment from these occasions, no matter the stage or state of life they are in. One does not need to engage in risky comparisons to understand how Islamic festivals differ from other celebrations. The distinction is clear, and it is precisely this uniqueness that gives Eid its spiritual vitality. The Islamic festivals are deeply rooted in a spiritual context that continues to inspire and ignite the hearts of believers across generations. Rooted in spiritual consciousness, Eid also embraces the human inclination toward beauty and celebration, offering a framework where aesthetics and adornment are refined within the limits of faith.

Eid al-Fitr is a celebration that marks the successful completion of a month-long act of profound worship: fasting during Ramadan. After thirty days of abstaining from food, drink, and other comforts during daylight hours, and engaging in increased acts of charity and devotion, Eid arrives as a moment of divine reward. The fast was not just a physical restriction, but a temporary pause on many permissible things, undertaken solely for the sake of Allah. Eid, then, becomes a moment of release—a transition from restraint to a graceful return to what is allowed, now enriched with gratitude and renewed faith. Interestingly, actions that were prohibited during fasting hours become not only permitted but even rewarded during Eid. For this reason, fasting on the day of Eid is itself forbidden; it is a day meant to enjoy the blessings granted.

Eid al-Adha, or the “Festival of Sacrifice,” is likewise deeply connected to a significant form of worship. Unlike fasting, however, not everyone is able to perform this act—it is tied to the sacred pilgrimage of Hajj. Yet even for those who are not on pilgrimage, Eid al-Adha serves as a reminder of devotion, sacrifice, and submission to Allah’s command.

Pilgrims from across the world converge in the sacred land to perform one of the most profound rites of Hajj: standing at Arafat. This moment, known as the Day of Arafah, is a pinnacle of spiritual elevation. As the pilgrims gather in humility and devotion, Muslims around the globe join in spirit by fasting on this blessed day—a fast known to carry immense reward.

Those who stand in the plains of Arafat are immersed in a unique atmosphere of deep spirituality. The sheer intensity of the experience makes it difficult for them to transition suddenly into outward celebration. Their hearts remain steeped in remembrance and surrender, gaining spiritual rewards rather than engaging in festive scenes. This is why Islamic teachings do not prescribe celebratory rituals for pilgrims on Eid in the same way as for others.

However, there is one exception—the act of sacrifice. Even this, though, is not just symbolic for pilgrims; they are granted the rare honor of performing it at the very place where the history of sacrifice was first etched in faith. It is an extraordinary opportunity to relive the legacy of Prophet Ibrahim (peace be upon him) right at its geographical and spiritual origin.

After uniting with the pilgrims through the shared act of fasting on the Day of Arafah, the global Muslim community transitions into the observance of Eid al-Adha. In contrast to Eid al-Fitr, which is preceded by a month of personal spiritual striving through fasting, Eid al-Adha is marked more by symbolism and collective unity. Its essence is not tied to any individual achievement, but rather to a shared remembrance—a historical and spiritual bond with a family whose unwavering submission to Allah shaped the very spirit of sacrifice.

The soul of Eid al-Adha is deeply connected to the story of Prophet Ibrahim (peace be upon him), his son Ismail (peace be upon him), and their ultimate act of devotion. Each year, Muslims remember and relive that legacy, not merely by performing rituals, but by awakening the spirit of submission and trust that defined that family’s life. This remembrance breathes life into the celebration, giving it a depth that transcends time and geography.

The spiritual energy of Eid does not isolate—it envelops. It reaches the poor and the wealthy, the sorrowful and the joyful, the sick and the healthy, men and women alike. No personal hardship, grief, or struggle can stand in the way of partaking in the blessings of Eid. For the rituals of Eid are not restricted by worldly circumstances; they are acts of the heart, accessible to all who carry faith.

The takbeerat (glorifications of Allah) and the Eid prayers performed on this day are acts of worship that any believer, regardless of sorrow or circumstance, can fulfill and earn reward through. Yet, it is not uncommon to see people who, faced with grief or hardship, withdraw from celebration altogether. Some even question: “What Eid? What celebration?” and choose to isolate themselves from the occasion.

But a believer must never take such a stance. Observing the prescribed acts of Eid, to the extent one is able, is an expression of obedience, not merely a matter of mood. Eid is not about doing something to mark the day—it is about attaining something through those actions. Those who emerge from the Eid prayer are not just part of a communal gathering; they are recipients of divine mercy and forgiveness.

To deny oneself these blessings solely due to sorrow is to risk missing out on a moment of grace that may never return. In Islam, mourning practices are limited, especially when it comes to public expressions of grief. Only a widow is permitted an extended mourning period. The believer’s path is one of patience and resilience.

One of the most beautiful features of Eid is how it elevates certain allowable practices to the level of spiritual significance without compromising the spiritual essence. Things commonly seen in celebrations—such as good food, fine clothing, and beauty—take on a dignified, purposeful form in Islam. To wear clean, fresh clothes, to prepare and enjoy good meals, to apply pleasant fragrances, and to bring joy to children—these are not indulgences, but acts of reward when done within the framework of gratitude and moderation.

However, one must always remember: nothing that is forbidden becomes permissible in the name of Eid. The joy of Eid must always be aligned with the values of faith.

As previously emphasized, our actions must serve to amplify goodness and make it more meaningful and impactful. When that is achieved, even the simplest acts become vessels of Eid’s spiritual energy. On no other day of the year does a believer’s clothing or meal attain the same spiritual merit as on Eid. The blessings of Eid are unique to Eid.

Today, fine clothing and abundant food have become common in many parts of the world, and their availability may seem ordinary compared to the past. But this should never become a reason to dismiss the significance of Eid. The day retains its sanctity not because of what we wear or eat, but because of the meaning we attach to those acts when they are done in gratitude, humility, and obedience.

On this special day, a believer should wear garments that are both beautiful and appropriate—not simply for fashion, but as an act of devotion. The act of dressing well on Eid is itself a form of worship. The same applies to food. Streets and restaurants may be beautifully decorated, offering exquisite dishes, but that alone does not define Eid. What matters is the intention behind our preparation and consumption.

Eid meals should not be neglected or reduced to routine. They should reflect care, abundance, and gratitude, prepared with the body, mind, and soul in harmony. Eid is not just about what we do, but how we do it and why. When these elements come together, Eid becomes not only a celebration but also a deeply spiritual renewal.

It is deeply saddening to witness a growing trend that celebrates Eid without truly understanding its spiritual essence. In many places, even the core rituals of Eid are being drawn into a culture of commercialization and, at times, questionable practices. The congregational prayer—intended as a solemn act of devotion—is sometimes reduced to mere crowd-gathering events, devoid of the structure and sanctity it deserves. Similarly, the charitable obligations of Zakat and the sacred act of sacrifice (Qurbani) are increasingly treated as logistical burdens to be “risk-managed” through impersonal and careless distributions, stripping these acts of their profound spiritual and communal impact.

Islam does not merely command actions; it provides clear guidance on how those actions are to be performed. The method is as important as the deed itself. Each ritual in Islam is not just a ceremony but a conscious act of worship. Therefore, it must be carried out with precision, sincerity, and alignment with the Prophetic example.

Another key Sunnah related to the Eid al-Adha celebration is Uloohiyyah (Qurbani), which emphasizes the centrality of Allah’s exclusive worship. This, like other religious acts, follows a prescribed method laid out by Islamic jurisprudence. However, out of convenience, certain practices risk deviating from these prescribed methods, which can be spiritually problematic. It is crucial to handle such rituals with care and precision. The act of sacrifice should be carried out exactly as directed. While the convenience of the giver or the receiver may be considered, it should not compromise the sanctity of the ritual. Often, obligatory or voluntary charity is reduced to a mere exchange, missing the deeper spiritual significance. Therefore, we must remain vigilant and mindful in our actions.

The wearing and gifting of clothes during Eid is another well-known practice. The dress should not only be beautiful, but also modest and appropriate as part of the spiritual value of Eid. Organizing and preparing for such occasions should be done in accordance with Islamic principles, avoiding any practices that contradict these values. For instance, promoting immodest fashion in the name of Eid contradicts its true spirit. Eid is an opportunity for both guests and hosts to earn reward by showing hospitality, but that reward can be lost if boundaries are crossed.

There is a growing trend to overindulge in the freedoms that Eid offers, which leads to excessive and inappropriate behavior. This trend should be carefully avoided, especially within our families. The joy of Eid must not become a pretext for indulging in harmful practices.

Eid should be a day for spiritual nourishment, and we should express gratitude to Allah by celebrating in a manner that honors the essence of the day. If we treat it as a mere excuse for indulgence, it loses its value and becomes something trivial. The heart of a believer should remain open to goodness and free from negative emotions during these times. Our celebrations should reflect this purity of spirit, ensuring that we do not allow uncontrolled behaviors to mar the sanctity of the day.

On the night of Eid and in the days leading up to it, the act of Takbeer (the glorification of Allah) strengthens the faith of the believer. Although the Takbeer was once resonantly recited by small groups of children in the mosque, it should now be practiced with greater intention—both within the mosque and at home. This should not be limited to small, isolated recitations but should be a family-wide activity, involving both adults and children together. By doing this, we can transform the entire night into an uplifting experience of praise without any distractions. This practice has immense spiritual benefits.

Every Eid should be a time for us to increase goodness, love, and harmony. Let us focus on saying Takbeer with enthusiasm, wearing new clothes with spiritual intent, ensuring modesty over fashion, and carrying out the ritual acts such as prayer and charity properly. For men, prayers in the mosque, and for women, prayers at home, should be performed with devotion. Cooking and sharing food, using fragrance in accordance with the Sunnah, visiting family and friends, and exchanging Eid greetings—all these actions make up the holistic celebration of Eid, ensuring that it remains a day of spiritual richness for us.

K SAYYID MUBASHIR HADHI, UPPALA

(Student, Ma’din Kulliyya of Islamic Science)

Poetry from Scott C. Holstad

It’s Said Again

Crowds milling about

willfully unseeing. Scent

of oregano, spice of

worlds, shan’t we

stop killing ourselves?

Boutiques become

deserted over ten

minutes, five hours,

whatever. Will they

go see you when you

die? Would they even

now, today? It’s said

one needs other people

in one’s life, but do

they truly need you?

tearshapes

that single droplet of water

barely singeing the edge of

that veined leaf looks like

the tears coming from your

eyes last night as you traced

your fingers and arms over

the wicked scars on my arms

and shoulders before then

covering my torso to avoid

having to see the rest.

you know

you naughty girl

that you have that kind

of impact on me,

and that water droplet

attests to that fact.

now just kiss my arms,

my shoulders, my body,

my scars, my life, my

past, say goodbye and

from here on, no

more tearshapes.

Beginnings, Past Lives, Other Lives

  1. He owned an active porn

shop. He perused illegal

sleaze in the backroom.

He sold kink and rented

out videos to bartenders,

lawyers, truck drivers,

school girls, ministers,

doctors and others

who slunk in and out,

horny and hopeful.

I was a miserable failure,

for he coveted nothing I

had or wanted. Lusty thighs,

gasping thrusts, throbbing

cocks, money shots all in

steamy movies – cars, bars,

bed, chains and women, harsh

black smokes and hot, wet skin.

He admired my tenacity.

I yearned to hide cameras

in the glory hole booths,

not for blackmail but so I

could jerk off in real time,

competing with myself to

achieve simultaneous orgasms

with those in the booths.

  • I asked if I could help out,

put the sticky magazines

in their racks, clean out

the dirty, throbbing stalls

after closing, page through

exotic fuck rags, answer

questions, help furtive

customers. He laughed

when I asked him this.

  • He showed me the keys to

this paradise and then put

them gently into his pocket.

  • My crusted heart fractured.

U R 0bs01ete yeT >>> ///

336016 |

0S1 M0de1 | VER0N1CA | DARPA.f | 0C-1: 0ptica1 Carrier level 1 |

RB0C | VRML | 1nf0bahn | 10Base-FB | SCS1 |

NSAP1.! | 1ANA | Gen1e | Dia1-uP | 1200 baud |

BR1 >> 1SDN | FDD1 | BBS | Frequency Divisi0n Mult1plex1ng |

4237151

Scott C. Holstad Third-Person Bio

Scott C. Holstad has authored 60+ books & has appeared in the Minnesota Review, Exquisite Corpse, Pacific Review, Santa Clara Review, Chiron Review, Palo Alto Review, Southern Review, Poetry Ireland Review, Libre, PULP, WIREWORM, Hidden Peak Press, Misfit, Blood+Honey, dadakuku, A Sufferer’s Digest, Horror Sleaze Trash, Synchronized Chaos & Bristol Noir. He’s moved 35+ times & now lives near Gettysburg PA.

https://hankrules2011.com

@tangledscott 

Flash fiction from Sean Meggeson

Mr. Tough Knuckles 

"I want you to understand what you've done, Johnny." The man looked at the boy sternly. "I want you to understand what it means to destroy property. It means something." 

The boy looked worried in a vague way, but was silent. 

"It wasn't just the window you broke, Mr. I-Like-Throwing-Rocks." 

The boy's expression did not change. 

"There was a complete set of very fine heirloom china on a table in the room where the window was broken. Most of the china was negatively affected. The window, all that very nice china, and the memories contained in the china, all broken by you.Also, on that very day, there was, by a twist of medicalized fate, a bottle of human urine in the room that was by consequence of your impulsive and selfish actions, over turned. A large part of the carpet was stained and the resulting odor was pervasive. Mr. Littlejohn has recently informed me the stench is still lingering." 

The boy's nose wrinkled as consequence of the man's description, but the boy still said nothing. 

"I'd like you to think, Johnny, of the meaning of your actions and their consequences. I'd like you to take some time and think. Really, really use your mind. A mind is a terrible thing to waste, Johnny." 

Silence. 

"Well, Johnny?" 

A longer silence. The man folded his arms impatiently. 

"I’m waiting, Johnny." 

"I'm thinking," said the boy softly with a hint of firmness. 

"Good! Very good, Johnny. I'm chuffed to hear you're thinking. Please, keep thinking, and I'd like for you to tell me exactly what it is you're thinking. I'd like for you to put actual words to your thoughts and to communicate them to me directly.”

Silence.

“Can you say something, Johnny?”

Silence. The man leaned toward the boy, and the boy made a fist and scratched his knuckles on his front teeth. 

“Well. This defiance is unacceptable. I can only conclude, Mr. Tough Knuckles, you’ve been toying with me from the very start. I think you actually desired to cause damage to private property. In your mind—the law calls it mens rea, Johnny—you truly are a destructive little turk, aren’t you? Henceforth, we will have to seriously correct this attitude.”

“I wouldn’t piss into the wind of this market.”

“Excuse me, young man?”

“Pissed away years of gains.”

“This is completely unacceptable, Johnny.”

“Piss on me, I piss on you.”

“I’m nonplussed! I simply have no choice now, Johnny. This issimply beyond thought! Your days at this school are over, and I will be contacting your parents immediately. Piss on me?Indeed.”

Johnny found his way outside and walked around the parking lot as the night approached. He picked up a rock and threw it at an Audi SUV, shouting, “The bond market’s goin’ to the pisser!” 


MJ 

"I've never met a chest of drawers I didn't like, and you, dear, are no exception." 

"Joseph, you've become tiresome. The most deadliest of sins, really." 

"Your drawers are of exceptional quality. They slide silently with the best of them. They slide on air." 

"Words slide on air. Yours do." 

"Your legs. Let's not forget them. A chest of drawers is nothing, nothing, nothing at all, without sturdy legs." 

"If you keep this up, you will realize what it means to have neither leg to stand on." 

"I will perorate upon your drawer knobs. In a class of their own, darling." 

"I’ll terminate monthly payments to your account if you don't stop talking immediately." 

Joseph raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. He twisted swiftly away from the woman towards the open balcony doors, picking up his vodka ice. He took a sip and looked over his shoulder at the woman, asking her tartly, "Who was it who said life is a brief wave from a balcony?" 

"Twas my dear husband, Jojo." 

"No, no, it was MJ.” Joseph danced toward the balcony railing, laughing, drinking, and beckoning to the woman. “Isn’t it time for a little moonwalk, darling?"  

Poetry from Gordana Saric

European woman in a fluffy floral white dress, double pendant earrings, reading glasses, and red hair.

PRAYER TO GOD

Dear God, prayer and hope

Thank you for giving love to my soul

So I know how to love both, a grass and a flower

And all the people on this planet.

Thank you for guiding me along the paths of beauty

That you give me strength to fly with birds

You are in my heart with the angel of goodness

As a blessing and as light itself.

God, that I praise you with a song

My whole being breathes with you

Hear the prayers that the heart does not bleed

Give peace that is no more.

Do not allow departures from home

Let the chaos, bombs and rockets stop

Refugees, uncertainty without an aim and hope

And the pathlessness of this suffering planet. 

Enlighten the reason of this madness 

Cease the wars and conflicts 

Unite the hearts that do not know love

May everyone find peace and freedom.

GORDANA SARIĆ

MONTENEGRO

Poetry from Maja Milojkovic

European woman with blonde hair and a straw hat stands in front of some plants.

LION’S SHADOW

(Translated from Serbian)

Clad in lion’s skin, he stands in stillness,

his gaze — a fire burning through the ages.

Within his grasp, the world trembles,

yet his heart speaks only in silence.

Not a hero, but a shadow of defiance,

neither god, nor man without a road.

In every sinew — a hidden wound,

in his smile — the dusk of old.

He bore the burden the world bestowed,

but never let his dreams corrode.

For Heracles is not just force —

he is the flame that walks the darkened course.

LAVLJA SENKA

U lavljoj koži ćutke stoji,

pogled mu kroz vekove gori.

U pesnici svet se lomi,

a srce — u tišini zbori.

Ne junak, već senka bunta,

ni bog ni čovek bez puta.

U svakom mišiću rana,

u osmehu — večna tama.

Nosio breme što svet mu dade,

al’ nikad snove da mu ukrade.

Jer Herakle nije samo snaga —

on je plamen što gori iz mraka.

Maja Milojkovic

Serbia

Poem based on the sketch of

Artist

Κωνσταντίνος Φάης 

Ιδρυτής του πολιτιστικού εγχειρήματος

Ηρακλής ως πυλώνας Πολιτισμού

Middle aged man from the side, with brown short hair and a suit.
Pencil drawing of an old statue of Hercules.

Maja Milojković was born in Zaječar and divides her life between Serbia and Denmark. In Serbia, she serves as the deputy editor-in-chief at the publishing house Sfairos in Belgrade. She is also the founder and vice president of the Rtanj and Mesečev Poets’ Circle, which counts 800 members, and the editor-in-chief of the international e-magazine Area Felix, a bilingual Serbian-English publication. She writes literary reviews, and as a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and international literary magazines, anthologies, and electronic media. Some of her poems are also available on the YouTube platform. Maja Milojković has won many international awards. She is an active member of various associations and organizations advocating for peace in the world, animal protection, and the fight against racism. She is the author of two books: Mesečev krug (Moon Circle) and Drveće Želje (Trees of Desire). She is one of the founders of the first mixed-gender club Area Felix from Zaječar, Serbia, and is currently a member of the same club. She is a member of the literary club Zlatno Pero from Knjaževac, and the association of writers and artists Gorski Vidici from Podgorica, Montenegro.

Short story from Alex S. Johnson

The Claw

The older man was buried in thought.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said the younger man, scratching an inflamed patch on his neck.
“Oh, sorry, I was lost there. Could you repeat the question?” came a voice from the back of the plain white panel van. He moved out of the shadows. The younger man responded with revulsion which he attempted to disguise. There was something uncanny about the older man, who wore a thick uncombed beard and had pale blue eyes that seemed to be floating in a sea of glue.


“I just wanted to know what you were, I mean, w-what you were…”
“What we’re doing here?”
“Yeah.”
“We have orders. Targeting, usual protocol.” He patted his laptop, which was attached to a 17 inch monitor that showed an infra-green 3D portrait of the subject’s body, tracked in real time, with a cross-section of their brain highlighting the parietal and temporal lobes.


“Soo basically what we’re doing…” the older man scratched his own neck, fished in his pocket for a cigarette, found a sole Marlboro Red and fired it up with a silver Deadhead Zippo. “We’re using the old Raven’s Claw to pulverize the subject’s brain. Slow cooking. We can fry them deep and they’ll never be able to track the beams back. The entire idea is to cause the subject to completely despair after incurring massive brain damage from no known source.”


The young man had heard all this information recounted countless times, but he asked every night nevertheless, like a child anxious to hear his favorite bedtime story.
“This man must have done some fucked up shit to merit…extrajudicial punishment,” he managed, struggling to enunciate the syllables.


“Yeah, not really,” said the older man.
“What do you mean, ‘not really?'” Again, the younger man had heard this too recounted countless times; it just amazed him that he was playing a vital role in the 24 hour government sponsored torture and mutilation of a U.S. citizen who, as far as he could tell, was really innocent of any crime whatsoever.


“He’s on the list, that’s all we need to know.”
The audio feed clicked on. The two men simultaneously started as the target first groaned, then screamed into the void.
“Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!”
On the screen, a trickle of tears down his beautiful face.
“He must have done SOMETHING wrong,” said the younger man again, seeking assurance.


“Not really,” said the older man, letting out a wet fart.
“So, he’s been accused of crimes he didn’t commit, and our job is to ensure that he eventually succumbs to his injuries and attempts suicide?”
“Yuppers.”
“It’s so cruel, it’s almost…sublime.”


“Fucking A right, like some Marquis De Sade shit. Do you wanna do some crank?” The older man thumbed the volume on the speakers, muting the shrieks.
“Yeah, ok, it’s the good shit you got from that chick in West Sac, right?”

“Fucking A right.”
“So what’s going to happen to his mom and dad, in their 80s, with no one to take care of them after he finally commits?”
“You know the answer.”
“I do?”


“Yeah you do. Shit, his old man will have a heart attack, his mom will die of a broken heart. They’ll look at our dude’s Kaiser Permanente record and write him off as a head case. The man will be instantly forgotten, his memory erased like tears in the rain.”

“Ya know, this shit is really bumming me out.”
“Then let’s talk about his bereft, super hot girlfriend who will be left vulnerable and in need of..comforting, shall we say.”
“Yes, let’s.”‘

Grief’s ebb and flow: Cristina Deptula reviews Taylor Dibbert’s collection London

Image of a small light brown dog with big ears in front of a yellow wall in a house, with a yellow title in all caps reading "London: Poems by Taylor Dibbert." On the left is the back cover, white text on a brown background.

A tribute to the memory of a beloved dog, Taylor Dibbert’s London explores the many nuances and dimensions of grief. The collection shows how loss and the associated emotions are not linear, but more like waves that crash and recede (“Riding the Waves”). 

The narrative begins with London’s death in “Today”, making the book’s focus clear. Like the narrator’s grieving process, the collection jumps between happy memories “This Sweetness” and “Packing Up” and poems on losing London “More Ink” and “Required Writing” and “Nine.” A continual theme, highlighted in “Unhelpful,” about friends giving advice too soon, is that no one, no matter how well-meaning, can rush healing after loss. Not even the poet himself, as he finds in “A Quiet Friday Evening.” 

The main character, an ordinary man who was very close to his pet dog of many years, speaks in small free-verse segments that resemble haikus or haibuns. Words are simple and understandable, which highlights the universality of his experience. Unfortunately, grief is accessible to everyone. The common language and short pieces reflect how a heavily weighted mind processes thoughts and feelings more slowly. 

As Dibbert’s poetic speaker says in “Learning to Live,” grief is not something we ever fully overcome. He realizes that we learn to live with our losses, and that he does not yet know how to exist without London. The final two poems express acute sorrow “London” and a determination to carry forth in hope inspired by her life “The Triumphs to Come,” illustrating that both states of feeling can exist together. 

Taylor Dibbert’s London can be ordered here from publisher Alien Buddha Press.