Fiction
Shahina
experienced a strange sense of oppression whenever she put on the hijab. No other girl in her class had to cover her
head and look like a blinkered horse.
Moreover, she was not a little girl anymore. She was sixteen and was mature enough to make
some personal choices at least.
“It is our
religious duty, my girl,” Bapa told her in his usual affectionate way.
“But there are
other Muslim girls in the school who don’t wear such a thing. There’s even a Muslim lady teacher who never
wears it.”
“Well, we live
in a particular community and we have to follow the rules of that community.”
How absurd,
thought Shahina. We call ourselves
Muslims and then we divide ourselves into a hundred factions. Shias, Sunnis, Salafis, and what not. And then each faction makes rules for
itself. Then fight for the sake of those
rules. Absurd. Absurd.
Standing in
front of the mirror, she looked at herself.
“Blinkered horse,” she smiled to herself in spite of the oppression that
weighed her heart down.
She couldn’t
blame Bapa. He chose to send her to a
secular public school instead of a Muslim school because he wanted her to grow
up like a normal human being as much as possible. Even Bapa cannot ignore the community. Even he wears a hijab. It is invisible, that’s all. We are all blinkered horses trotting along
the line drawn by the community. Minor
aberrations were tolerated. Like her
going to a secular school.
Looking at the
beautiful hairs of her companions in the class, Shahina felt the oppression
return to her heart. She longed to get away from the classroom.
“To let your
hair down means to behave without inhibitions, to be yourself, to be free from
unnecessary restrictions,” the English teacher was explaining.
Shahina left
the school building during the lunch break.
She went to the far end of the playground and crossed over to the
private estate. She walked on until she
reached a rock. She climbed the rock and
standing at the topmost point she pulled out her hijab, untied her hair and let
it float in the breeze.
She screamed
to the trees and the breeze and the butterflies, “I am not a horse. I don’t need blinkers.”
She screamed
again. And again. And she felt her heart becoming lighter.
The lightness
sifted through the leaves that murmured secrets to the breeze. The breeze filtered into Shahina’s heart. She sat down on the rock and smiled at herself.
And then she
sighed. The warning bell rang in the
school. The lunch break would soon be
over. She picked up the hijab from the
ground and started putting it back on her head.
I loved reading this. My wife is a teacher at school teaching class 10 - 11- 12 and many girls like Shahina do not want to wear Hijab. Some dont wear it at school but the moment they step out of the school they put it on...
ReplyDeleteI too am a witness to certain real life longings. The story is an outcome of such witnessing.
DeleteHe wore a hijab that was invisible....minor aberrations......Wow.....so subtle and right on target...the warning bell and her going back to the fold reflect beautifully the inability to free oneself from the tyranny of the community.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sunaina for making occasional visits here. You enrich me in certain ways.
DeleteMy occasional visits hurt me more than you can imagine...Wish I could become a regular here...And how could I in the whole world enrich you? I seek light here....:)
DeleteThis is so beautifully written. Loved reading it.
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it.
DeleteTouching as well as thought-provoking story. An invaluable piece of writing from you Sir.
ReplyDeleteOne simple incident triggered this story. I'm glad you found it touching.
DeleteWell done! My first time reading your fiction. However, you allowed the teacher to touch a raw nerve. There is certainly truth in it, though. But, it brings into mind a question, should the teacher have shoot the girl down with such a statement in a 'multiracial class', knowing well it would offend one in her class. When you showed her standing atop the rock, I thought she was planning to jump down. For a fifteen year old, you cannot rule out the possibility of a suicide. Anyway, you had other plans. But the wound remains deep inside, haunting her.
ReplyDeleteI have Muslim. Classmates in the college. Many of them Purdah-clad. Others wear it outside. In the class, they make themselves rid of it. One Muslim girl, whom I would like to call as Urban and Urbane Muslim, she does not have a Hijab, much less a Purdah. She is just herself. She is Shea.
ReplyDeleteAs I understand, very few girls are willing to question the validity of certain imposed restrictions. Most of them accept servility in childhood. Power of religion?
DeleteThis lady seems to be from Liberal Family. They all have Muslim Names.
ReplyDeleteLiberal Muslim may be quite an oxymoron. There are exceptions, no doubt.
Delete