Iffi, our 16-year-old American
born desi cousin was always questioning his roots. One day when the patriot kid
was complaining how his parents had kept him away from his culture, the
Pakistani couple instantly decided to send Iffi to Pakistan in summers. We and
my aunt live together in a joint family system; so Iffi instantly decided to
stay with us. Zain and Iffi are the same age so naturally, Zain was responsible
for Iffi’s religio-socio-cultural tour in Pakistan.
After partying till dawn, Zain
and Iffi would go to sleep after having sehri.
The fast was easy, Zain only got up to offer prayers and recited the holy
book half an hour before iftar. Iftar was delicious and the nicotine doze
afterwards made it soothing. Zain’s routine to me is pretty usual. She does
well at school and her parents are happy with her.
Iffi was a branded gora kid so he
instantly became popular among Zain’s friends; who at one end hate American
policies for Pakistan but on the other fancy their language, their brands,
their life styles and anyone who follows them. Some of them drank occasionally,
some had girlfriends/ boyfriends, some, who, religious lived by the Islamic
values even refused to socialize with Iffi.
Iffi was probably more confused
about his identity now than before. He was neither expecting Saudia nor Malaysia
but he, probably like most of us, didn’t know which one to choose over the
other. At one dimension he thought Veena was right that she has the right to
choose what she wants to do, on another he thought she does represents the ‘Islamic
republic of Pakistan’ so that should be her consideration too while deciding
what she wants to do, on yet another angle he just couldn’t observe that the
preachers of Islam can’t tolerate the minorities settled in Pakistan when Islam
lessons equality, justice, mercy. He shared, probably to confuse us too, that:
“It grieves me that whenever I
see a group of men in beard wearing shalwar kamiz, terrorists or fundamentalist
are the first things that pop into my mind. When actually they have adopted to
even adjust their life styles according to the same religion that I follow- that
calls for a lot of respect from a fellow Muslim. I don’t know if media is the
culprit here or a few rotten eggs but this is wrong by all definitions. I
thought coming to Pakistan will change that image, but it didn’t. It also
grieves me that when I see a hot chick, if I may say, wearing skinny jeans and
a backless shirt; modern and cool are the first impressions I get. That’s not
modernity to Islam. I am no one to judge either of the mentioned; the hot chick
might be a better Muslim. What is our identity, anyway?”
My uncle answered him that, “We
are neither secular nor theocratic but we have lost tolerance for other
communities residing with us. And this tug-of-war between the two extremist
classes is not only increasing this intolerance, which consequently even turns
in violence, but also confusing us more about our identities. You should know
that you are a Muslim and a Pakistani, wherever you are, and be loyal to your
identity in your own way, not the media’s way or the popular way but your way.”
I don’t know if that helped Iffi,
but it did help me. One thing Iffi was happy about before leaving was that he
was not an ABCD because he didn’t know his roots but he was an ABCD because
desi’s, anywhere are confused, even in their own country. LOVE PAKISTAN!
No comments:
Post a Comment