How to look busy during qurbani Eid without doing much

For most of our childhood, Qurbani was something we watched from a distance. Then one year, someone looks at you and says, “dhor” — commanding you to hold the harness. And surprise! You’re now part of the process. Your first participation will test your coordination and your ability to nod like you understand what’s going on (plot twist: you don’t). No one explains your role, but everyone expects you to perform. So, if you’re new to this and trying to dodge responsibilities, here’s a beginner’s guide to looking busy on Eid-ul-Adha, don’t you worry:

Rule number one: Stand close but not too close

There is a moment when someone throws in a different opinion and suddenly, everything changes. Voices rise, patience drops, and people start arguing like a decision needs to be made right now. This is usually when responsibilities start getting passed around.

And that is when you need to master a very specific position: visible, but not available. You should be close enough that no one can accuse you of disappearing, but far enough that no one can hand you responsibility.

Rule number two: Respect the koshai, aka the final boss

He may or may not be the official professional, but that’s irrelevant. He knows what to do, when to do it, and more importantly, who is in his way (more often, it’s you).

He doesn’t need to raise his voice. His one sentence is enough: “Eida amar prothombar na.” No one asked, but everyone listens.

Your job here isn’t to prove anything. It’s to look busy but stay out of his way. Always pretend you know what’s happening, but never try to outsmart him.

Rule number three: Always agree with the “shobjanta” relative

He appears at the exact moment things get complicated. He doesn’t help physically, but critiques everything brutally: technique, timing, positioning and whatnot. And somehow, no one argues.

Your job here is not to question. Your job is to nod. Maintain eye contact and agree with everything. Repeat his words with slight rephrasing.

Store his lines carefully. They will be useful next year, when it’s your turn to stand at a safe distance and contribute absolutely nothing.

Rule number four: Perform responsibly only in front of your father.

Fathers tend to get angry at the speed of light on Eid day, so your job is to look responsible, even if you’re not. Stay visible, and occasionally give a few confident instructions.

As long as work is getting done and you appear involved, he’ll believe you’ve got it under control. His sight should be that you are giving orders, and the work is actually happening. The key is to sound involved without actually becoming involved.

Rule number five: Survive the great distribution event (very little chance you will, though).

All of a sudden, things get complicated. Calculations begin loudly, and everyone turns into a mathematician.

This is not your moment to contribute. Stay neutral and observe. Nod if necessary. But do not offer suggestions.

And just when you think you’ve successfully avoided responsibility, it happens. Someone hands you a task you didn’t sign up for: sorting and delivering meat. You must accept it.

Final rule: Embrace the chaos

Your panjabi will not stay clean. Your plans will not go as expected. The timeline will collapse. Lunch will be late. There will be shouting, confusion, small mistakes, and a lot of unnecessary instructions.

But somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, you’ll realise you’ve just experienced something strangely beautiful.

Next year, you won’t be a first-timer anymore. You’ll be the one giving instructions and offering “gyan” to another confused newcomer, from a very safe distance like your “shobjanta” relative you once observed.

And just like that, the cycle continues.