I am not a ‘typical Muslim’, so why am I still reduced to a stereotype?
I am not a ‘typical Muslim’, so why am I still reduced to a stereotype?
m.u.h
22/12/2022681
1 0
Written by: Imad Ul Riyaz
I have wanted to write about my experience as an Indian Muslim for a long time. But whenever I picked up a pen, fear would paralyse me: What choice of word or phrase might lead to trouble, perhaps to my arrest? Today, Shehla Rashid and Umar Khalid have been wiped out of the popular imagination. Kanhaiya Kumar, though, still exists. Despite having the same starting line, what a name can afford you is evident.
Every two years, I find myself penning my thoughts down; every two years I vow to myself that it will be the last time. Last year, propelled by the same anxiety, I mustered the courage to apply to the University of Cambridge. While I have always done well academically, the limited social capital and access to information made such universities a pipedream for those like me. For Indian Muslims, more often than not, this is true — regardless of their backgrounds.
For friends across the socio-political spectrum, I have never been a “typical Muslim”. Yet, most of them believe Muslims must be “nuanced”, compelled to maintain a calm demeanour. This isn’t necessarily incorrect. However, there are times when I want to lose my cool. In the recent past, I’ve had multiple altercations with people who misbehaved with me. Amidst all this, a friend, out of compassion, said, “Please don’t react; your reaction will be correlated to your religion.” I don’t have the luxury to react as Imad; it would become about all Muslims and their inability to “take a joke”. This small conversation has given me sleepless nights ever since.
I often joke about how Muslims will never be given their due rights. In doing so, what I hope to communicate are my insecurities as a Muslim in India today. It was not funny when in an Ivy League university and in Oxbridge, my Indian Muslim friends were asked, “Are you from Pakistan?” To the diaspora, it often comes as a surprise that Indian Muslims can make it to these institutions of repute. It was not funny when I was serving my country, working in left-wing-extremism-affected rural districts, and a bureaucrat joked, “Imad babu, aap salary ka kya karte ho, bomb banate ho kya?” (Imad babu, what do you do with your salary, make bombs?”) It was not funny when an acquaintance, another “atypical Muslim” had to leave a senior management position in Bangalore and move to England in his early forties. In his apartment’s WhatsApp Group, approval for violence against Muslims was common. In school, his kid was bullied and asked why Muslims are terrorists. This is an experience common to many with names like mine.
Another friend was recently denied housing in the suburbs of Jaipur because he has a Muslim name. He is not a “typical Muslim”. The rent details were fixed. But as soon as he shared his details, the landlord cancelled the deal. Another friend in Delhi spoke about how each time she wore a hijab and travelled by metro, officials would frisk her. She now plans to settle abroad. I’m not surprised. Across sections of Muslims, there is a shared sense of insecurity and fear. Whether you are a Gujarati, Kashmiri or Hyderabadi Muslim — it doesn’t matter. Whether one is a “typical Muslim” or “not a typical Muslim”, we share the same plight, the same anxiety, and the same uncertainty.