The book begins with the author mentioning a picture of her group of students for the secret literature class. She compares two pictures, one with the burkas and the hijabs and the other picture where the girls are not wearing their veils. The splash of color between the two pictures make against the authors subconscious is highly evident with the tone she initiates within the memory.
I find myself very annoyed with the author. I say this with experience. When I was 10 years old, I went to a summer camp that taught Islam. I discovered the importance of the word and that I was Muslim. I always knew I was different from the other kids in my elementary school. As infamous as Pakistan is now, in the news, back then it was obscure not even known what part of the globe it was located in. Being bullied for my dark "looks" had made me a very introverted child. I found my sanctuary from books, a place where I could breathe without the constant harassment about things I couldn't control. Teachers barely acknowledge bullying but from a child's' perspective I knew that my teacher was aware of my bullying as well as other children but it was ignored as children conversing and not a big deal. That summer the book I would be introduced to would be the Holy Quran.. I was fascinated by the stories of the Holy Prophets.
Until that moment my family was cultural which is very different from being religious. Pakistani Culture does have some influence of Hinduism since it was part of India before the partition. One example is matrimony which can last for a week and is very similar to a traditional Hindu wedding, bridal dresses and traditions, with the only difference which is the Nikkah. I asked my mother to make me scarves. I had that feeling of belonging that was lacking in school. My mom was delighted with my enthusiasm and didn't discourage me from my choice, even though she didn't cover her own hair. I bought books about the life of the Holy prophet. I read books about various Hadiths. I had discovered a world of respect where no one bullied me or called me names. My friends were from different countries and races, we were joined by the stitches of faith. I was accepted. Those were the happiest days of my life. Nothing could take me out of my dreamlike reverie. Nothing except for the event of 9/11. 9/11 changed my world and impelled me to assimilate.
The author has no pride for her roots. In her liberation so far I find her narrow. I was also upset with the regime in Iran and how they took things such as having blush in your bag to the extreme. I acknowledge that there is a problem there. I was also upset with how they jailed Manshid for her beliefs. Ignorance is the word for jailing women (people) for their beliefs yet we even find that in the states. Sadly one case is of Fahad Hashmi, who is Pakistani - American who is in imposed self isolation in the United States without the fairness of a trial which is his constitutional right. This is only because of what he is and for being a Muslim who openly advocated to protect the rights of Muslim Americans after September 11. For his beliefs he is in imposed self isolation for years, pretrial, with no communication with the outside role, no sunlight or even the freedom to choose his reading materials.
I do believe that following religion and the act of wearing the hijab should come from within. I am also disgusted with Muslims, that think being westernized will allow them to be accepted into the West with open arms. These individuals ostracize people that are converse to what they portray and being in the middle of such a spectacle I can see a lot of different ideas. Apparently society, even a democratic one that wants to shine with example, has problems .
No comments:
Post a Comment