When I was born, I was declared a girl. That meant for sure that I was what the boys were not.
When I was growing up in a safe North Indian Lucknawi environment, I was a Sunni Muslim. That meant for sure that I was what the Shias were not.
When we prayed a certain way, I was a Sunni Hanafi Muslim. That meant for sure that I was what the Shafai Sunni Muslims were not.
When I stepped out of my house in Oman, I was an Indian Muslim. That meant for sure that I was what the Arab Muslims were not.
When I socialised within the Indian community, I was a North Indian. That meant for sure that I was what the South Indians were not.
When I went to America, I was an Indian who most people assumed was a Hindu. That meant for sure that I was what the Americans were not.
When I met Muslims from all over the world, I was not good enough because I didn't speak Arabic or blend in with the crowd. That meant for sure that I was what those Muslims were not.
When the planes crashed into the twin towers, I was suddenly a Muslim, a terrorist secretly conspiring with all the Muslims of the world. That meant for sure that I was what the non-Muslim world was not.
I ran away.
When I discovered the courage to look inside myself again, I found the 5-year-old that used to make flower garlands for the lambs and old goats that she would befriend in the alleys of her home in the old city. That meant for sure that I was what I had always been and didn't need another to relatively define myself anymore.
2 comments:
All my life I have had to define myself in terms of my relation to someone else, in a particular structure, for classification into a specific compartment, to make it easier for people to collect data about me. I have realsied that in the process, its the fluidity rather than the rigid taxonomy of our identities that makes people anxious. In times like these, I run away too. Its too exhausting to explain sometimes by the sheer intensity of those watchful eyes, eagerly waiting to see you crumble. Example : I am a Muslim Feminist. That seems too much of an oxymoron for many people to grasp. Probably there is another world, of fugitives refusing the tyranny of these labels, leading their lives, learning their truths and not imposing it on the rest of humanity under the silly pretext of universalism. Isn't it interesting how we define the self by first defining the other? That simple fact never ceases to amaze me. Thanks for the post Khadija, make me feel I'm not alone.
"...the sheer intensity of those watchful eyes, eagerly waiting to see you crumble."
Okay thank you, I just realised I am not crazy because that is how I perceive a lot of situations too. I feel insane somedays because I cannot seem to think the same way as everyone around me does, even my elders. It really makes me wonder if there is something simply wrong with me someplace, if I'm a horrible person who cannot just shut her eyes to the cracks in things. :(
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