Saturday, November 15, 2008

Of the joy it means to be Muslim

I watched a charming bonbon of a movie last night--a Palestinian Israeli collaboration called 'The Band's Visit.' It was about an Egyptian Police band who had landed in small town Israel. There was no talk of war in the movie, no Gaza strip, no politics, no bloodshed, just conversations and humanity.

I also finished 'The Kite Runner,' recently, a much more somber affair but was thrilled to read the Farsi words and find most of them sounded a lot like the Urdu-Hindi I had heard growing up with Hindi movies.

And I began thinking about Muslims. Especially the Muslims I grew up hearing about, seeing, encountering. In Bombay anyway, they were always the cool folk. Or they appeared so very cool to me because we South Indians were the most uncool. I mean compare the mere name Chuppamani Iyengar to Jehangir Khan and you have it all there in a nutshell. Sure there was a ghetto Muslim area--Muhammed Ali Road--and it was like any other ghetto.

But the mainstream middle class and upper class Bombay Muslims always stood for the city's most fashionable, attractive, well spoken, polite.

The word Muslim conjured up for me and still does--Biryani (the queen of all rice dishes), A. R Rehman (of the lilting, pulsating music that resonates from rickshaws all over India), Luxurious garments covered with Zardosi, lavish fourteen day long weddings.

The word Muslim brings to mind stalwarts of my beloved music--Hindustani music--the velvet voice of Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, the skilled rhythms of the adorable Zakir Hussain, the melodious strings of Amjad Ali Khan.

The word Muslim conjures up for me to this day--life lived and enjoyed to its fullest.

Utter luxury, as a well known Indian fashion designer Ritu Beri said is something, no one can beat India in. And few do it better than the Indian Muslims--starting with the Mughals and kept up today by the well to do South Bombay Boris :-).

As a young girl, I wished I'd be able to marry someone whose last name was Khan. I still don't know a cooler last name.

India houses the second largest population of Muslims in the world (after Indonesia) and despite the occasional bloody skirmish, the occasional political campaign against one faction or the other, even despite the myriad terrorist bomb blasts and attacks, we manage to live together.

We manage to rock back and forth yet stand as one nation.

How about that glut of Khans in the Hindi film industry. How cool is it that in one of the largest film industries in the world, in a majority Hindu country, the major movie stars are all named Khan, all of whom are married to Hindu women (at last count anyway). Also how many times have they played Muslim men in their movies?

A major world democracy bordered by troubled or controversial lands on all sides-Pakistan, China, Afghanistan is close by enough, the Middle east but a hop away (some parts of the middle east are more or less run by the south Indians but that's another story) and India manages to sail through these troubled seas. The Hindus manage to live with the Muslims.

But only just.

The day twenty years ago when we truly, truly didn't see much difference between the last names Ali, Fernandez and Joshi is gone. They were all merely classmates who brought to class--if we were lucky--the right sweets to share during their respective Id or Christmas or Diwali festivals.

I'd like to think that even in this turmoil ridden world, an Egyptian band going to a small Israeli village only draws attention because the band is full of somberly dressed men carrying odd sized instruments walking along the street unable to find their destination. I hope there are times when an Indian Hindu stops in remote Pakistan and says he had come by to try their legendary kabobs and is served without anyone blinking an eye.

I do know how my cousin's in-laws were received when they paid a visit to Lahore some time ago. They had left Pakistan during the partition and were visiting for the first time and guess what? The streets rang out with "We have guests from Hindostan (India), we must treat them well." Bewildered by the hospitality that poured from strangers, they spent time in Pakistan being treated with the graciousness their Muslim brethren are known for.

Maybe all we need is more movie collaborations, music crossovers (any Indian reading this must recall the furore Khaled, an Algerian created in India decades ago with his Didi!), food collaborations and more.

And Inshallah (God willing), things will change.

The word Muslim won't conjure up fear but joy, utter joy.

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