The Sacred Feminine in an Islamic Republic

On Saturday (14^th July 2012), even 1433 years after the Last Messenger of Allah, strictly forbade his ‘ummah’ to bury their daughters for fear of hunger or reputation, a heartless father murdered his 1-day-old daughter by burying her alive. Sources say that Chaand Khan, a resident of Kaccha Khoh, Khanewal, requested a doctor, most probably the obstetrician, to inject his newborn daughter with poison as her face was deformed. On his refusal, he went away, burying the infant (his 6^th daughter) alive. The neighbours reported him to the police, and now he is behind bars.

Upon reading that the vindictive father is in jail now, majority of the people who read this news item would have thought: “chalo acha hua wo sang-dil insaan pakra gya. Acha agli khabar kya hai?”, utterly ignoring the gaping holes in our social fabric which have been highlighted by this dreadful incident. We are a Muslim state, but then, why is number of sexual incidents (consensual as well as non-consensual), harassment at workplaces, and honour killings constantly on the rise?

Let’s start with the birth. When a girl is born, even in these modern times, the parents are never overtly happy. Many of them don’t express it, but there is always a certain disappointment at not having a son, and the added burden of not only feeding and bringing up a soul who would be leaving the parents alone in their old age, but also of protecting her innocence till that fateful day arrives. In the remote areas, however, the shame and disapproval is a lot more obvious, and the daughters are either killed, or married to some wealthy middle aged man, who would be looking for a young girl to make his (impending) old age bearable. Very few get the privilege to live without any outstanding ‘obligations’. When she is brought up, she is always kept closeted away, far from the prying eyes of the society, forced to wear outfits which conceal her figure completely. This she never resents, for she understands that it is for her own good, but what she can never get around is, that boys her age always have more freedom than her. That's the first step towards unleashing the submissive inside her. Those who are from rich backgrounds, however, are in opposite conditions. They have too much freedom, and too less supervision, turning them into total dominants.

Whatever their backgrounds be, once they are in college or university, or even an academy (any co-ed environment, for that matter), they start to influence the boys with their ‘past experiences’. If they are from a liberal background, most of them are the eye-candies, or easy lays. They begin dating, which invariably leads to some sort of a physical contact. The foreign movies have taught them that it is normal, so they lose their innocence willingly. Their boyfriends are happy, they are happy, but the society is corrupted. Those whose background or financial circumstances don’t allow them to wear form-fitting jeans or low-cut tops, dislike this further alienation. The boys don’t pursue them, and even if they do, they cannot get away from their homes for long enough to be with them. This leads them to a dilemma: family, or freedom? The freedom, with its serpentine attraction wins, and they begin to make excuses to get away from their homes, just to be with their ‘significant others’, who, they believe, love them and will be with them forever. Alas, those poor souls are never able to differentiate between love and lust, so invariably, they are tricked into some compromising situation, where they were led to believe that it is the couple’s sheer love for each other that had brought them to that point. However, a while later, they break up over some pretty issue, and the next day, the girl wakes up to find her ‘sensitive’ images splattered all over the internet. Her dreams are shattered, her trust in men is broken, irreparably, and she might not be a normal person ever again. If the couple does stay together, the boy’s (normally jealous) friends try to intervene, to get a piece of that chick for themselves as well. Doesn’t matter whether they get her or not, either they retain some incriminating evidence for blackmailing her into silence and subservience, or if it gets too far, they simply kill her, just like Fatma Shah of Jorray Pul, who was murdered by her boyfriend Farhan’s friends on 14^th July 2012, and then her body was dumped in front of his house.

Of those who manage to remain physically and emotionally unattached during their education, some are stalked (mostly due a fatal combination of good looks and evident vulnerability), either at educational institutions, or at the offices they work. The murder/ suicide incident that happened in front of Kinnaird College of Women University Lahore on 17^th October 2011 is still fresh in my memory when Samar, a student of KCWU was shot by an infatuated ex-neighbour, Shams, who couldn’t take in her refusal to marry him. Then he committed suicide, to escape any persecution for his heinous crime. The workplaces are a thousand times worse for the females. They are subjected to snide jeers, sexually explicit jokes and ‘accidental’ gropes by their male co-workers. A friend living in Karachi told me, that during 2^nd week of her job at one of the banks, her boss asked her out, hinting that making him happy would really speed up her promotion and salary increment. She refused, and she is still on the same pay grade on which she had started, even after 2 years. But that’s the story of a reputable corporation. What about the call centres, PCOs, third-grade factory outlets or even cheap restaurants? Where there’s no sense of morality, where the owner presumes you are his to use, any way he sees fit? Where the ultimate aim of your boss might be to pimp you out to increase his income...? The professional life in our country is worse than hell for the underprivileged/ less educated ones.

Until now, I have discussed the circumstances faced by women who find themselves unable to resist these social ‘demands’. But what of those who manage to get through, without harming either their conscience or their innocence, only because of strong moral training and constant vigilance on part of their parents? They too have ‘followers’, though they pretend to be friends. In reality, they just wait for a chance to pounce on those poor girls. One hint of emotional weakness, and they have got you! This is the reason why parents don’t feel happy at the birth of a daughter. This is what turns mothers into heart patients and fathers into diabetics, for every second after due time that their daughters don’t make it back home, they experience agony and anxiety we can only imagine. At this point, the question we must be asking is: is this how our forefathers imagined our ‘separate homeland’ to be? Did Jinnah envision every 10^th rural girl getting raped, or else, killed in the name of honour while he voiced the demand of an independent Muslim state in 1940? Is this what our religion teaches us? The nature followers who regarded the female as ‘sacred feminine’ were destroyed by the idolatrous (and later, by early Christians), to re-paint their image as ‘the vile creatures who led Adam to his expulsion from the Garden of Eden’, to dominate them, to use them the way they saw fit. Islam’s advent, among many other reasons, happened so that the women could regain their well-deserved place in the society: as man’s social and religious equivalent. Can we be so brazen; to call ourselves Muslims, but keep doing precisely what Islam forbids us from? Time to decide what position our fair sex should hold in our ‘Islamic’ society...

Together Forever

It had just stopped raining. The air was sweet, the sky, azure. Everyone was outdoors, enjoying the weather, and the inexplicable joy it inspired. It was then, that the ivy on the alley's entrance sprouted new leaves. On its topmost branch, however, only two came into existence. (Now, dear readers, you probably have read many literary pieces, and would acknowledge the benefits of naming characters. So I name them as Leaf and Leafie. This being done, let's now continue with the story.) How could it have been, that with such an air of joy and life around him, Leaf would stay put. So he yawned, and opened his eyes. As Fate would have it, the first sight of his life was young Leafie. He couldn't help admire Leafie's yellow-and-green form that looked so innocent, yet so breathtaking. Suddenly, Leafie opened her eyes too, and Leaf wasn't able to gaze into hers, with all the fire behind them. So he gave a slight cough and looked away, and when he heard Leafie's musical giggle, he was ecstatic.

Soon, both began to feel cold, and as if reading their minds, the sun came out, showering them with his golden rays. For some days, everything went their way. They got food, water and sunlight just when they needed them. Before long, they had grown into perfect leaves. Life was good.

But alas...! Fate had some other plans for them. The sun, whose daily arrival was celebrated by all, began to think that everyone was getting less of him. So it lengthened its daily rounds, and began to exert more power in firing those flaming arrows which had a big role in sustaining life on this planet. Soon, months' names started to shrink, and the sun started showing its true colours.

Leaf, meanwhile, was having a hard time. Not only he had to endure thirst, but every day, he died a thousand deaths when he saw Leafie lose some more of her emerald complexion for that parched look that didn't suit her at all. Leaf, bound as he was to the stem, still tried to help her. He found out that by enlisting the help of that scorching wind, he could position himself so as to shield Leafie during those hours when everyone's shadow hid beneath them.

Leafie was bright too. She has never forgotten the expression Leaf wore when she had first opened her eyes, nor could she ignore his efforts to protect her. She had always fancied him, but now, she adored him, and wanted to express it too. So when it happened for a week, that when Leaf would accidentally look into Leafie's eyes, he would find the fire softened, almost beckoning him, he finally got the hint. He looked her questioningly, and when she gave him a shy smile, Leaf knew that he was really lucky.

Now, every day, with a little help from the wind, they would manage to get close, hold each other's hands, and forget everything else. Even the sun relented a bit, on seeing this courageous display of affection.

Fate, however, was unmoved. The cruel puppeteer in whose hands we all are marionettes, had more in store for the young couple. Soon, the month with the longest name arrived, being given a mission by Fate. Before long, harsh winds started to blow, snatching leaves from their abodes, and hurling them to the ground. Leaf and Leafie were frightened by all this. Whenever the gusts of wind would bring them close, they would hold hands, and promise to be together, no matter what. They managed to hold out for some days against the wind's escalating intensity till it became too much for Leafie. She was plucked, and not too gently, was tossed around in the air to taunt Leaf, and then dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

During all this time, Leaf attempted to get hold of her, but in vain. His heart felt like being cut by glass when he saw Leafie's sad smile and the look of hopelessness in her eyes. It took all the pleading and requesting, before the wind tore him as well, and led him to a few inches of where Leafie lay, on verge of death. Leaf couldn’t endure the sight, so he closed his eyes, but the wind whispered to him to open them. He did so, and there was Leafie, looking at him, with a mysterious smile on her lips. She blew him a kiss, and breathed her last. Leaf felt that his own end was near, so he glanced at her beautiful form for the last time. As he felt his eyes flutter, he stared into Leafie's empty, dead ones. Then it hit him: Even thou they both would be dead soon, they were still together. So he breathed his last too, a smile identical to Leafie's playing upon his lips...

Photo credits: Verdah Javed