A Faded Blue Ribbon
A faded blue ribbon
Has a story of its own
Of days lived, years spent,
And of times bygone.
When a little girl wore it
On her dark locks
The sweetness of innocence
That youth now mocks
When the pretty young lass
Awaiting her life's sunshine
The ribbon adorning her dress
Of youth and beauty fine.
And then the lady of age
Weary of time and still going on
Her hat crowned by the ribbon
Now faded and worn.
Monday, August 31, 2009
From Beneath The Headscarf
From Beneath The Headscarf
It is a frequently discussed issue. Newspapers, tabloids and talk shows can go on and on defending or dismissing it. Diverse opinions have been articulated and commented upon. So this piece of writing is not going to do it all over again. Rather, here's the other side of the story. Here's the other side of the much discussed 'symbol of oppression', the headscarf.
Ever since I started wearing a headscarf, it has been an enigma of sorts- be it in college or in public places. So why do I wear a headscarf? Am I bald or is it some medical problem? Don't I get suffocated in it? Am I forced to wear it? Do I want to get rid of it? Questions were being fired left, right and center. Faster than I could cope with them. And then, there were the bus rides. Following any terror attacks, (allegedly, by what seems to have become the pet phrase with all political commentators, 'Islamic Fundamentalists',) a headscarf is suddenly noticed everywhere. People, from the looks of it, probably suspect me of hiding guns beneath it. Frisking for security at the metro stations of course took much longer for a covered-up-in-layers girl like me, than it would take the others. I looked like a terrorist, a friend once joked. Well, atleast it wasn't an accusation, the sort my American cousins had to face, way back in 2001 following the 9/11 attacks. Nevertheless, I've made my point clear. I'm writing this piece because in this ideological warfare, my pen is my mighty sword. Over the last year in college and my literature studies, I've grasped the magnitude of this power, and I've been taught to use it well. To speak out and to be heard. And so my headscarf speaks up through my pen.
To begin with, for the benefit of all the curious minds, let me announce this- the simple reason for my wearing a headscarf is that my religion tells me to do so. And since I'm a deeply, unapologetically religious person, who fully understands her right to practice her faith, this reason should suffice. A secular outlook doesn't mean its a crime to openly practice your religion. It only means tolerance towards other faiths. So long as I'm not imposing my views upon others and not condemning them for not doing what I do, I certainly am committing no crime. This is a democracy and I'm no Taliban. And no. I'm NOT your idea of the 'oppressed' muslim woman, seeking to be liberated by those who cast such pitying glances at me. I'm not bald or ugly, I'm not forced to wear a headscarf and I definitely do not wish to get rid of it, thank you very much. I do not owe explanations to anyone nor do I have to defend any of my actions. It's just that after a certain limit, it becomes quite difficult to tolerate being misunderstood and misjudged. It then becomes necessary to speak up, and that I shall.
The question of what women should and should not wear has been a part of public discourse accross the globe. Not only men, but women too have debated over what is acceptable and what is not. Now and then a certain Sarkozy or a Ram Sena or a Maulvi make an appearance on the public scene to give their verdicts on this subject. Opinions are critiqued, applauded, dissected, debated. And later buried. Somewhere in the process, people forget that muslim women too have a voice of their own. And they have their own brains too, which qualifies them for making reasonable and sound decisions for themselves. There is a general misconception that muslim women don't have a voice of their own. I am not talking about the stereotype of the 'oppressed-exploited-burqa-clad' figure that is part of the imagination of the masses. I'm talking of the real urban, middle class muslim woman who lives in the society just like other women.
And then there is the question of the muslim identity, riddled with undercurrents of terms such as 'fundamentalism', 'fatwas' and 'terrorism'. A headscarf instantly becomes a mark of a muslim identity. It screams out loud the fact that I'm a muslim. But so does any other religious markings we see in our everday lives. A cross around the neck, a mouli on the wrist, a steel kada proudly flaunted. So how does a headscarf become a mark of extremism? It forcibly puts you in a limelight you cannot escape. In a crowd of designer jeans, stylish skirts and spaghetti tops, a headscarf is the odd one out, the outcaste struggling for acceptance. I wonder if women even have had to struggle to flaunt western attire, the way I've had to struggle to assert my right to wearing my religious attire in a supposedly 'tolerant' society.
Coming to some technical aspects, I do not boast of feeling safer in my headscarf- that you cannot feel as long as you're living in Delhi and travelling alone in buses everyday. I'm as prone to an attack as the next person and so I have my set of self defence techniques to tackle my problems. As for feeling suffocated, the summer heat and soaring temperatures barely allow any clothing at all. So I guess its best to leave it to people to decide their own degrees of clothings for themselves. I know people who would dismiss my views as highly conditioned by my social background. But lets face it- one cannot escape conditioning of one or the other kind as long as one is living in contact with human civilisation. But one can of course discriminate between right and wrong for themselves and decide what is best for them. And so I weigh and deliberate and choose for myself. If my judgement finds a headscarf a good option, so be it.
Life in a headscarf is not all about a struggle- infact, except for the fact that my hair is covered, you'd be surprised to find me a normal girl! I too, have a thick and shiny mane that I spend time styling and dressing. Stylish accessories, branded clothes, a passion for music and arts, and of course my love for literature, are some of my normal preoccupations, which make me identify with the crowd of my age. There's a bright side to headscarves too- no damaged or dry hair, no split-ends, or dandruff, and you're safe from the sun and pollution. And no sun burns too!
So thats the headscarf girl for you. Just look beyond the head covering, there's a woman just like you. Broaden your perspective to embrace differences and celebrate them. My due respect to those who do not wear headscarves and choose for themselves what they wear. It's everyone's right and one that must be exercised. And that's the attitude I expect back- a broader, more tolerant understanding of other people who might choose to be slightly different from the mainstream. For me, a liberal society is rooted in respect for the personal choices of individuals and in giving them a chance to step out of the prejudices that have been created for them throughout history.
"...Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise..."
- Maya Angelou, 'Still I Rise'.
It is a frequently discussed issue. Newspapers, tabloids and talk shows can go on and on defending or dismissing it. Diverse opinions have been articulated and commented upon. So this piece of writing is not going to do it all over again. Rather, here's the other side of the story. Here's the other side of the much discussed 'symbol of oppression', the headscarf.
Ever since I started wearing a headscarf, it has been an enigma of sorts- be it in college or in public places. So why do I wear a headscarf? Am I bald or is it some medical problem? Don't I get suffocated in it? Am I forced to wear it? Do I want to get rid of it? Questions were being fired left, right and center. Faster than I could cope with them. And then, there were the bus rides. Following any terror attacks, (allegedly, by what seems to have become the pet phrase with all political commentators, 'Islamic Fundamentalists',) a headscarf is suddenly noticed everywhere. People, from the looks of it, probably suspect me of hiding guns beneath it. Frisking for security at the metro stations of course took much longer for a covered-up-in-layers girl like me, than it would take the others. I looked like a terrorist, a friend once joked. Well, atleast it wasn't an accusation, the sort my American cousins had to face, way back in 2001 following the 9/11 attacks. Nevertheless, I've made my point clear. I'm writing this piece because in this ideological warfare, my pen is my mighty sword. Over the last year in college and my literature studies, I've grasped the magnitude of this power, and I've been taught to use it well. To speak out and to be heard. And so my headscarf speaks up through my pen.
To begin with, for the benefit of all the curious minds, let me announce this- the simple reason for my wearing a headscarf is that my religion tells me to do so. And since I'm a deeply, unapologetically religious person, who fully understands her right to practice her faith, this reason should suffice. A secular outlook doesn't mean its a crime to openly practice your religion. It only means tolerance towards other faiths. So long as I'm not imposing my views upon others and not condemning them for not doing what I do, I certainly am committing no crime. This is a democracy and I'm no Taliban. And no. I'm NOT your idea of the 'oppressed' muslim woman, seeking to be liberated by those who cast such pitying glances at me. I'm not bald or ugly, I'm not forced to wear a headscarf and I definitely do not wish to get rid of it, thank you very much. I do not owe explanations to anyone nor do I have to defend any of my actions. It's just that after a certain limit, it becomes quite difficult to tolerate being misunderstood and misjudged. It then becomes necessary to speak up, and that I shall.
The question of what women should and should not wear has been a part of public discourse accross the globe. Not only men, but women too have debated over what is acceptable and what is not. Now and then a certain Sarkozy or a Ram Sena or a Maulvi make an appearance on the public scene to give their verdicts on this subject. Opinions are critiqued, applauded, dissected, debated. And later buried. Somewhere in the process, people forget that muslim women too have a voice of their own. And they have their own brains too, which qualifies them for making reasonable and sound decisions for themselves. There is a general misconception that muslim women don't have a voice of their own. I am not talking about the stereotype of the 'oppressed-exploited-burqa-clad' figure that is part of the imagination of the masses. I'm talking of the real urban, middle class muslim woman who lives in the society just like other women.
And then there is the question of the muslim identity, riddled with undercurrents of terms such as 'fundamentalism', 'fatwas' and 'terrorism'. A headscarf instantly becomes a mark of a muslim identity. It screams out loud the fact that I'm a muslim. But so does any other religious markings we see in our everday lives. A cross around the neck, a mouli on the wrist, a steel kada proudly flaunted. So how does a headscarf become a mark of extremism? It forcibly puts you in a limelight you cannot escape. In a crowd of designer jeans, stylish skirts and spaghetti tops, a headscarf is the odd one out, the outcaste struggling for acceptance. I wonder if women even have had to struggle to flaunt western attire, the way I've had to struggle to assert my right to wearing my religious attire in a supposedly 'tolerant' society.
Coming to some technical aspects, I do not boast of feeling safer in my headscarf- that you cannot feel as long as you're living in Delhi and travelling alone in buses everyday. I'm as prone to an attack as the next person and so I have my set of self defence techniques to tackle my problems. As for feeling suffocated, the summer heat and soaring temperatures barely allow any clothing at all. So I guess its best to leave it to people to decide their own degrees of clothings for themselves. I know people who would dismiss my views as highly conditioned by my social background. But lets face it- one cannot escape conditioning of one or the other kind as long as one is living in contact with human civilisation. But one can of course discriminate between right and wrong for themselves and decide what is best for them. And so I weigh and deliberate and choose for myself. If my judgement finds a headscarf a good option, so be it.
Life in a headscarf is not all about a struggle- infact, except for the fact that my hair is covered, you'd be surprised to find me a normal girl! I too, have a thick and shiny mane that I spend time styling and dressing. Stylish accessories, branded clothes, a passion for music and arts, and of course my love for literature, are some of my normal preoccupations, which make me identify with the crowd of my age. There's a bright side to headscarves too- no damaged or dry hair, no split-ends, or dandruff, and you're safe from the sun and pollution. And no sun burns too!
So thats the headscarf girl for you. Just look beyond the head covering, there's a woman just like you. Broaden your perspective to embrace differences and celebrate them. My due respect to those who do not wear headscarves and choose for themselves what they wear. It's everyone's right and one that must be exercised. And that's the attitude I expect back- a broader, more tolerant understanding of other people who might choose to be slightly different from the mainstream. For me, a liberal society is rooted in respect for the personal choices of individuals and in giving them a chance to step out of the prejudices that have been created for them throughout history.
"...Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise..."
- Maya Angelou, 'Still I Rise'.
The Land Of Candy Butterflies
The Land Of Candy Butterflies
On a lazy summer afternoon
Or night of wintry pale moon
I often choose to wander by
The land of candy butterflies
Where vibrant flights of fluttery wings
Dance on petals in happy winds
A golden sprinkling of love around
Where blooms of every hue abound.
And where no burden, no darkness trails
And every spell of sorrow fails
Where my heart swells with joy and cries
My land of candy butterflies!
On a lazy summer afternoon
Or night of wintry pale moon
I often choose to wander by
The land of candy butterflies
Where vibrant flights of fluttery wings
Dance on petals in happy winds
A golden sprinkling of love around
Where blooms of every hue abound.
And where no burden, no darkness trails
And every spell of sorrow fails
Where my heart swells with joy and cries
My land of candy butterflies!
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