LOST II

Chapter 9: "Agitation"

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November 5, 2019

Salma was sitting in the masjid hall, typing away on her laptop as Anne talked to the gathering of women. Their masjid had a meeting every Sunday in which a discussion was tabled about any of the pressing community problems. Usually, Anne picked her topics from the anonymous mail jars in which community members anonymously wrote about issues they were shy of voicing out publicly.

Salma, who had gotten tired of the vacuum in her head, decided to join Anne and help her out with the paper work. With Sarah closeby, passing snarky comments on some woman she did not like, Salma had started feeling a lot more relaxed and easy.

". . . Although it's a recurring complaint, largely from younger people, I think this issue applies to all of us being way too focused on others and not ourselves." Anne introduced the issue under discussion. "How the line between advice and judgment is a fine one and how often we cross it. I'll read to you a portion of one of these letters. The sister writes:

"I am sick and tired of these sisters doing my "islah". 'Your scarf is too small.' 'Your bangs are showing.' 'Your chest isn't covered.' 'The color is too bright.' 'Why are your nails painted?' 'Is that lipgloss? In a masjid?' 'Don't you know there's brothers in here?' 'Don't wear jeans.' 'Wear longer shirts.' 'Where's your abaya?'

One, after the other, after the other. I just couldn't wear anything right. I started hijab only recently and honestly, I feel like life was much easier without it. Not because disobedience to Allah is easier but because "MUSLIMS" let you be when you aren't trying to get better. As if trying to follow Islam is giving every fatimazurahra, sakintu-whatever, and yaseen and nosheen the open invitation to criticize you, ridicule you, order you, teach you, correct and reprimand you.

"Someone's getting pissed," Sarah muttered. Salma looked up from the screen to see her eyeing a couple of ladies at the far corner of the hall. They were clad in black burqas, and known for their bitter scowls, harshness and venomous words. These, apparently ultra-religious group of zealots, were trying to eat Anne away with their glares.

"The Haram police?" Salma asked, turning back to her screen.

"Yep," Sarah replied. She did not like the Haram police at all, and never let a chance miss her by to make her dislike known. "Bet they know they're the antagonist of this letter."

"Excuse me? Give me a Break! Do you have any idea what it was like to pick up a piece of cloth and wrap it around my freshly cut, nicely styled, beautifully dyed hair? Do you have any clue of what it takes to walk into a crowd with this wrap on, when you know they preferred you without it? When I am second-guessing my decision every second, must I get the extra incentive to just get rid of it, because according to some sakinatu-whatever!... it's useless because I am not doing it right anyway? That I MUST conform to your standards? What would it take to just be appreciative that I am at least trying? Its 1% of the teaching but it is still better than 0. The feeling I got here is that you'd rather I go for 0 than 1% . You could appreciate the one, make me feel comfortable and who knows I would take the leap to two and three. What appreciation and acceptance can do, criticism cannot.

"Ha! Keep dreaming, honey." Sarah scoffed. "No such thing as appreciation is happening here. Sakinatu-rat's poo has a huge ego. She'd rather feed it with judgment than smile and encourage."