The congeries of evil attributed to Indian Muslims is hurtful and untrue. S/he awaits that Hindu cousin to speak up against the targeted violence.
I have always wondered how one is supposed to look like one’s religion. Save for outward tokens such as a turban or a topi, a beard or a burqa, how can one give instant proof of one’s religious beliefs? Yet, growing up in Delhi, all through one’s school, college, university, while negotiating an assortment of jobs and offices, not to say myriad social occasions, I have heard this comment delivered in tones ranging from surprise to approval. With time, I have understood, the speaker is trying to give me a back-handed compliment. Since I don’t look like a Muslim, I am ‘okay’, I am not quite one of ‘them’—the bomb-throwing, beef-smuggling, jehad-spouting Muslim of popular imagination. By extension, I might even—at a stretch—be considered one of ‘us’.
So, I don’t look like the Muslim of general perception. For one, I don’t have a beard, nor do I wear surma in my eyes and a skull cap on my head. I may be forgiven for that, since I am not a man. But I also don’t conform to most people’s idea of a Muslim woman. I sound like anyone else raised in Delhi, snobbish as we are—in south Delhi to be precise. I dress no better and no worse than any woman of my social class, not to mention age. I wear my hair short, uncamouflaged by the hijab. In short, I look like any average Delhi person.
Esta historia es de la edición January 08, 2018 de Outlook.
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Esta historia es de la edición January 08, 2018 de Outlook.
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