Eid or Photoshoot? How Instagram Is Hijacking Our Traditions

Eid or Photoshoot? How Instagram Is Hijacking Our Traditions

Eid morning used to begin with the scent of sheer khurmasimmering in the kitchen, the sound of laughter echoing through the house, and a flurry of last-minute kurta ironing. It was a day of reunion, prayer, simplicity—and above all, meaning. But in 2025, one scroll through Instagram paints a very different picture. Eid today looks less like a religious celebration and more like a brand-sponsored editorial shoot. The question is no longer “Have you prayed Eid namaz?” but “Have you posted your Eid look?”

What was once a festival of gratitude and spiritual reflection is increasingly becoming a curated display of materialism. Designer lawn campaigns drop weeks before Ramzan ends, each piece styled to perfection with luxury bags and glass heels that cost more than a family’s monthly grocery bill. From coordinated family outfits to professionally edited reels, Eidcontent is now optimized for likes, not legacy.

Let’s be honest: everyone wants to look good on Eid, and there’s nothing wrong with capturing memories. But when the focus shifts entirely from the meaning of the celebration to the marketing of self, we must ask—have we lost the plot?

Social media has blurred the line between tradition and trend. Families now plan their Eid day around golden-hour lighting. Young people, especially women, face enormous pressure to look “Insta-ready” perfect makeup, trending outfits, filtered smiles. For many, the celebration doesn’t even feel real unless it’s been posted, praised, and shared.

And while the elite dominate the feed with lavish setups and imported accessories, millions of Pakistanis celebrate quietly, in simplicity or in struggle. Their Eid doesn’t make it to the Explore page. It doesn’t trend. But it’s just as valid—if not more meaningful.

There’s a kind of spiritual irony in this shift. Eid marks the end of Ramzan—a month of humility, sacrifice, and connection with the divine. But the moment the moon is sighted, humility is replaced with hustle: for the right shot, the best caption, the perfect aesthetic.

This isn't a call to abandon technology or joy. It’s a plea to re-center. To remember that Eid is not a competition, it’s a blessing. To capture moments, yes, but not let those moments become the entire meaning. To dress up, but not at the cost of empathy. To share online, but not forget those who are off-screen.

As we gather this Eid, maybe the real post worth making is the one we don’t upload.