Eleven days after my first blogging session, I deleted my blog, took the bright-yellow and brown covered book and place it on my bookshelf in my neatly reorganised cupboard -with 25 unread pages. Earlier this year I knew who I was but around the time I started this blog I began losing my identity; or rather I realized that I didn't really have one.
This week has been quite a roller-coaster of emotions that was initiated by the reading of this "very dangerous" book. Thirty pages into the book, I began hating on Azad Essa. The giggles, admirable smiles and expectations of enjoyment evaporated into steam emanating from the pit of my stomach, escaping my through my ears, nose and corners of my pursed lips. I blurted pompous lines of debate and rhetoric questions with force, sarcasm with a stinging tone of mockery; and then I felt a pricking in my mind..."idealist?"- I didn't sound like one. So I began analysing the pages through idealist-tinted spectacles. I realized that firstly Azad is entitled to his opinion and we can't hate on people just because we differ but I decided to agree to disagree. I concluded that for the world to accept my religion we as followers of any faith firstly need to appreciate, to respect, tolerate and accept the commands of our faith before expecting others to do so. We've got to educate and empower ourselves regarding our religion so that we may avoid blasphemy and ignorance.
But this was not the reason for my rash decision of deleting my blog and failing to read another word... I despised Azad for making me see the hypocrisy and contradiction in my way and thought as a citizen of the global village.
i
Last Friday I received the results of my desperate efforts during the year 2011- I had earned my portal to a world of opportunity, however, there was a clandestine discontentment breeding in my soul. I was trying way too hard to be a somebody in a world that's far too busy to honour and recognize me.
ii
On Sunday I attended a religious gathering that commorated the completion of adolescent boys’ efforts to memorize the Qura'an and the study of its different dialects from the local Qura'an academy. Unlike Azad, I see the benefit, rewards, true blessings and gratification that this miracle of an achievement brings to a person's life. However, I do agree that to attain complete benefit from this achievement we need to understand these words and act on it to fulfil the responsibility that is due to our religion -which was the essence of the talk thereafter delivered by an orator, lecturer and cleric at the Islamic university in Johannesburg- who has never failed to inspire and motivate me to explore the depths of my religion. In my eyes his eloquence is unmatched and his speech dismissed the discontentment in my soul and extinguished my burning desire for recognition. The instant I got home I deleted my blog and pledged to dedicate my former five years out of school to the study of my religion.
iii
On Tuesday I attended this awesome youth convention which was spear-headed by 3 young, university-going women. "Youth for Youth" afforded us a day of delectable fun, accommodating spirituality, on-trend fashion, inspiring speech, persuasive chants, invigorating poetry, satirical drama and solutions to ceaseless teenage dilemmas- all within an epic setting. My two favorite segments on the agenda were: "The Sorting Hat" and "Who am I?" - which were both delivered by charismatic, passionate, influential women who were the cause of my quickening pulse, teeming inspiration and electrifying rejuvenation.
"The Sorting Hat" was a variation of that starring in Harry Potter. No, it didn't speak, it was just a simple black fedora, but who would've thought this would've lead to a spectrum of solutions to our orthodox, age-old teenage complexities and predicaments. However, due to the solutions being far from orthodox and thankfully not clichéd, we relished them. Hell, didn't I learn a lot about myself and was most definitely comforted to see and hear the many girls in my community who shared the burden of threats and weaknesses that I've been battling to combat.
And last but not least the intrapersonal battle that waged mercilessly in my mind for the past few months: western ideology versus religion. There she stood ex-head girl of high school, unaware of her saviour-like presentation, and posed the question: Who am I?
The answer should come with spontaneity, shouldn't it? But it didn't! But now I know; I'm not forced, indoctrinated, embarrassed, stifled or oppressed into proclaiming these words... but with a soul of love, admiration and pride - WHO AM I? - "I am a Muslim; and a Muslim Woman." This answer incited discussion of Islamophobia and Azad Essa predictably barged I into my thoughts....I remembered his incident at the Dubai International Airport and enough of my own experiences to share because not only do I sport the hijab (the head scarf) but I do the niqab (the veil). And no, I was not forced neither am I oppressed but rather I love to remain a beautiful enigma safe from “deflected dust and pervy male stares" (quoted from Zuma's Bastard). And men haven’t really changed over the last 500 years (well, that’s just the pervy ones). In fact, they've become more daring, if not more hard-core since all billboards are screaming abuse of advertising tactics, to play with consumers emotions: woman are constantly dieting , chasing after the shadow of the airbrushed, size 2 and men... Well, I don't need to elaborate much, except that no auto dealer sells you a car with a woman.
Note: Not all men a consumerism dummies and not all women are trying to make pigs fly!
iv
Now you're probably thinking that I'm just a passionate debater, defending my religion and taking the idealistic outlook nowhere but Azad Essa helped me see my hypocrisy.
Most of us theists comfort ourselves by selecting a few religious rituals to fulfil yet we are unwittingly racist, prejudiced, anti-Semitic, anti-Christ and others Islamophobic. Yet, if we take a moment to flip through the annals of our religious history we'd realize that all of our religious models or prophets loved and tolerated members of other faiths. We are fooling ourselves and branding our nonsensical habits under the banner of religion and at the same time blaming the wrongdoings of others on their religion.
v
Yesterday, something made complete this book and only after, did I realize my opinions on the various matters with which I begged to differ. I completed the book with a huge smile on my face and was pushed close to tears by nostalgia that was ignited by the imagery created of the beautiful Kashmir that I was blessed to visit last year... Switzerland of the East!
I didn't perceive this book to be THAT good and neither do I think that Azad intended to get my mind reeling into overdrive , but I guess that's what an awesome book does and even though I didn't agree with some opinions ...it helped me find my own. I now totally agree with Dylan Muhlenberg it is a "very dangerous book" especially if you don't know who you are and what you stand for.
vi
Azad Essa knows his identity. He “is a young South African going places" with a " fancy education, torn jeans and funky All Stars..." He is a journalist, columnist and lecturer.
"He doesn’t drink but he's not scared of a pub; he's Muslim but he has a sense of humour; he's young but he's savvy and politically aware. And he's got opinions worth listening to. "
And I know my identity. I'm a young South African going places with a more-fancier and less-fancier education; a black thobe, and draped in hijab and niqab and not oppressed. I'm a student, thiest and idealist. I have crazy ambitions but I'm not scared to achieve them; I'm Muslim but I'm not apologetic; I'm young, I'm spirited and politically aware. And I’ve got a religion worth delving into.
Teenage idealist...
N.B. I'm so psyched out because I scored double membership points at the bookstore for my next read: Aleph by Paulo Coelho. Also currently reading Othello - by the castle in the city of invention- William Shakespeare.
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