The Lost Stranger

There are dreams that have been forged in the dusty recesses of his mind,

As a wandering stranger snores beneath the candescent moon.

Rising to the first stream of golden radiance glimmering through the
sheers of his mind,

Slowly roused from the inebriation of the night.

And when the dreams of the night refuse to bid adieu,

He must know it is time to free the voice incarcerated in the gallows of his mind,

For this is the voice of a soul that pines for a listener,

As it croons a poignant tale of deep yearning.

Oh lost stranger! Listen to thee!

For when the sweet melody of the soul finally breaks free,

The glow of the darkness shall fade away into the brilliance of the day,

And the surreal hope spun by the night shall lead thy,

To the untraversed path of salvation and joy.

-Farah Abbas Bookwala

Jeeyo, Utho, Badho, Jeeto!

A couple of days back, an international news channel presenter chuckled as he covered the last minute, frantic repair work taking place in Delhi, as the Indian capital prepared to host this year’s Commonwealth Games. He likened the games to an Indian wedding; “chaotic until the very end”; before things finally fall into place and the lifelong union of two individuals into holy matrimony takes place. Mom and I let out a short laugh at that – highly amused at the comparison but also a tad bit embarrassed at the ridicule India was subjecting itself to on an international platform. Caustically, we too agreed that doomsday was approaching soon.

The CWG have been nothing short of a Big, Fat Indian Wedding. Amidst construction delays, dengue outbreaks, bridges that collapsed and fears over the inadequate security in the light of a tourist shootout, the preparations have seen enough trouble to cause the father of the bride a cardiac arrest.

But when the lights came on, what a wedding it was! The guests, from across the world turned up in thousands and none of them left disappointed. The ceremony showcased a heritage so rich, a cultural diversity so profound and a fanfare so colourful, it left Indians bursting at their seams with pride as the world watched enraptured at the event that can be called nothing less than SPECTACULAR : Folk dances from across the country, grand henna designs by India’s young prodigies, sand paintings, larger than life (literally and figuratively) cultural totems that free-floated across the stadium, dabbawalas, chaiwalas, mithaiwalas – people who make India so Indian – as they paraded in the great Indian carnival. And when the cultural extravaganza ended on the musical power-packed note by AR Rahman, the skies roared with the thunder of the electrifying fireworks as the equally feverous applause rocked the world below. For once, Suresh Kalmadi, far from giving me  a chance to scoff at his remarks, received my praise for having kept his promise of ensuring a dazzling inauguration ceremony at India’s first sporting event.

This blog simply CANNOT do justice to what we witnessed on television, just as television cannot do justice to the mega-sporting ceremony that was witnessed in person. But I trust you’ve seen what I have and are able to wholly relate to my feeling of pride today.

It’s been an eventful day. Thousands of miles away from India, I’m on a gloating spree. Tomorrow will be a new, colourful day: blue skies, red ribbons and hopefully shiny golden medals.  

Dual lives, multiple battles

In a world that seems to be increasingly receptive to the theory of dualism and plurality of the being, one form of duality, on the contrary, is drawing severe resentment: the dualistic nature of being nationalistic and religious. In a constitutionally secular India, to be Indian and a Muslim is a state of being that is increasingly beginning to find negation, for it is evident that many are beginning to believe that nationalistic pride and religious sentiments are mutually exclusive. 

As a liberal Indian Muslim myself, one who prides on being as much Indian as being Muslim in my way of life, be it in the pride I feel to see India excel on an international platform, in my penchant for Indian food, my passion for Indian cinema, or the Indian nuances of my diction, I have never been forced to question the co-existence of the two dualities. But a recent incident triggered a debate that left me rather uneasy: a young Kashmiri Muslim boy, a student at my University, engaged in anti-Indian rhetoric on a social networking site, uploading disturbing file photos of the war in Kashmir and slogans that demanded the Indian government to back off from the state. The incident obviously ruffled a lot of feathers and it took appropriate intervention to bring things to calm.

It is perhaps hard for me to question the boy’s sentiments against India, for his affiliation to a state that has seen a political fire rage for nearly two decades and his social conditioning has undoubtedly torpedoed his belief in Indian nationalism. Perhaps he has experienced the grief of losing a dear one in the crippling insurgency. I don’t know. However, his act of provocation at a time when there was little justification for it had me feeling apprehensive about the ability of Indian Muslims to be able to find easy assimilation in their own society in the years ahead.

The duality of our existence is difficult to identify with. The entire Muslim population of this world is a common brotherhood that every Muslim is a part of through birth and until death. Nothing can be more testament to this than the fact that when Muslims around the world converge in the holy city of Makkah to perform Hajj, social boundaries collapse, especially those of ethnicities. A rich Arab bends in prayer, in line with a poor Indonesian. This fraternity exists in addition to the national fraternity we are a part of. For liberal but practicing Muslims, if our nationality is our identity on a global platform, our religion a way of life. And it is the twofold inclusion that is beginning to stir trouble for Muslims, especially in countries where they form a minority population. And as much as we try to keep the two apart, like two sides of a coin that stick together back-to-back yet face away, the political battles being waged in name of religion have left us feeling battered.

Even in a city like Mumbai, one that prides itself on being cosmopolitan in its outlook towards religion, the divisive lines are never so quick to surface than after a national catastrophe. I remember the time after 26/11 attacks in India. On our way to a mosque to offer prayers for all those who lost their lives in these attacks, my mother and I were immediately sensitive to the rather suspicious looks being cast our way in Mumbai’s local trains – in normal circumstances, a little matchbox on wheels that throws people from every diverse ecosystem into its confines and is often the initiating point for many affable relationships. 

As educated Muslims, we understand the feeling of insecurity and the reason behind the masked apprehension, but it is rather painful for us too: the feeling of loss and despondency of our countrymen, the feeling of being wounded, the public humiliation, the questions being raised on our faith and our nationalistic integrity come back to stab us time and again.

To top it all, the incessant revival and shoddy, semi-permanent closure of the socio-religious-political battles of our past, (case in point being the Ayodhya Mandir/ Babri Masjid dilemma which is soon to hear its verdict) means that even the new generation of young Muslims, seeking a fair chance at a dignified life, are drawn into the fire stoked by previous generations. Political czars, seizing the opportunity, will allow the fire to rage on until the smoke fizzles out and people congregate into the mundane mainstream of life; but not long before creating permanent faultlines which year after year media coverage will remind us of, on their respective anniversaries.

The Muslim world, from America to the Far-East is torn between feeling guilty to wrongly accused. The problem of causality is so deep, it is impossible to distinguish whether a reaction is the cause or the effect of another. From the anti-Muslim rhetoric chanted in America over the proposition to build a mosque at Ground Zero in NY to the Palestine-Israeli conflict over Jerusalem to the fear of sectarian violence in India over the upcoming Ayodhya verdict, the Muslim fraternity is together in the repercussions that we face globally and internally too.

And as you would have noticed, I have not offered any conclusive reasons or solutions to this dilemma. Honestly, because there’s no easy answer. This resistance can only be tackled with a powerful political, religious and social renaissance, a phenomenon that secular Muslims around the world look forward to desperately.

Introduction

Hi guys, I've been missing in the blogging space for quite some time and in the mean time, my previous blog just disappeared! So here's my new space. It's my own take on everything that matters. Please join into the conversation!