My Dear Neighbour,
It was nice to hear from you on the phone the other day. You sounded courteous but concerned. It was your tone of voice that I still cannot get out of my head. I confess I have not been able to sleep peacefully after our call. I am confident that, you, on the contrary, must have not only slept peacefully after our chat knowing fully well you have earned jannat. I, my dear neighbour, remain restless.
Let me recall exactly what triggered this. Our 5-year-old children are friends. It started with my child insisting on buying hand-made Easter eggs sold at her convent school in Karachi. So when merrily she bought and dropped off the chocolates at your home, is when the trouble began. I, of course, endorsed her actions. My child’s school teachers had worked hard in preparing the chocolates and proudly distributed them to mark an important festival in Christianity, which is Easter. A few moments after we dropped the happy package (or so we thought), you called me on my mobile. You told me how shocked you were when as soon as you finished reading your namaz, your daughter came in saying, “Easter Bunny got Easter eggs!” You emphasized that sending Easter eggs to a Muslim household is not perceived as a noble act by the elders of your house (implying any Muslim household). In not so many words, you made it obvious that it was not just the elders, but you also did not approve of it.
You took me by surprise, Dear Neighbour! That day, for the first time in my 30-something years of existence, I knew what feeling like being hit by a bus really means. Politely I asked, “What’s wrong with the chocolates? They are handmade and very delicious. The teachers made them and I bought them to appreciate their efforts. I’m not exactly celebrating Easter by going around town pretending being an Easter bunny, you know,” while I kept wondering how could I have violated a pillar of Islam. But you persisted, telling me that it was simply wrong to do anything related to a non-Muslim festival. Buying chocolates and distributing them meant that I had lost my Faith (and perhaps sense of direction in life and possibly even moved a few inches closer to hell in doing so). Basically, you implied that I will rot in hell for sending hand-made chocolates for her child, because my 5-year-old insisted on giving chocolates to friends.
It is shocking for me to see how something as ugly as religious intolerance breeds in the supposedly richer and educated echelons of our so-called high society
Does my act of encouraging my child to learn to give and share affectionately make me a poor Muslim?
I did not want to give up on our good friendship of two years. So I gently tried to show you an alternative view when I said, “My dear, I am a neutral person. Anything that brings joy to the people around me, I support. I know that by buying those chocolates with the intention of sharing, cheered up the teachers and handing them over to children made them happy. It makes me happy.” You then retorted, ‘Really, then you must celebrate Holi too? (Phir to aap holi bhee manatee hon gee?)’ I was utterly lost for words. I knew that if our conversation continued it would have an ugly end, because I have a low tolerance for nonsense.
You misread my message of appreciating efforts of the school staff, sharing joy among children and acknowledging that an important community of our city is marking a key festival and, hence, we show respect towards it. How can I ignore so many of my Catholic colleagues who never ate lunch during Ramadan at work, when my Muslim colleagues did not mind smoking or drinking tea? I remember how I would encourage them not to hold back and how stringent they would be on respecting the communities’ beliefs. Then why can I not buy those Easter eggs, which are after all just chocolates.
What is more disheartening for me to know is that is the kind of intolerance that you will impart to your young. Yes, that is intolerance, while my Islam is but a religion of tolerance.
When I ran into a few other women at a party over the weekend, I narrated my experience as a litmus test, just to see if I was the only one who had gotten it wrong. Fortunately, a woman in the group who belonged to the local Christian community smiled softly. She told me how she is accustomed to neighbours telling her politely not to send food to their house. However, they (being Muslims) can send food to her (she being a Christian) household. ‘When was that invented?’ I asked innocently. She laughed, saying we are a minority so we try to be careful and not ask too many questions.
As my friends and fellow citizens of the Christian community mark Easter on April 1, I sincerely wish them a peaceful and blessed day.
To my neighbour, I want to say this: The Karachi my ancestors settled into back in the 1930s when they first moved from Peshawar was largely inhabited by communities whom we now refer to as ‘minorities’ – also symbolically represented on our national flag’s white. My late grandmother, who was an extremely proud Pakhtun Muslim woman, always recalled what great neighbours she used to live with — neighbours from Karachi’s different communities, Bohraas, Parsis, Hindus, Christians, Sikhs and so on. My grandmother never went to college and barely finished school. She gave me my first lessons on religion and politics, as she was a furious reader of books on all kinds of subjects. One thing which she often spoke of with great pride was how all of Karachi’s communities lived united in love and peace before Pakistan’s independence. Indeed, the city’s finest hospitals and schools were established by these communities before 1947 and they continue to serve our countrymen till today.
It is shocking for me to see how something as ugly as religious intolerance breeds in the supposedly richer and educated echelons of our so-called high society. How can the rich and educated be so extreme in their views when so much has been said, reported and written on religious intolerance in the media?
My Dear Neighbour, I’m sure you will tell your likeminded friends how yours truly committed a kufr and was not ashamed but alarmed at your reaction. I, on the other hand, pray that Allah — the same Allah that you bow to five times a day — opens your heart with the light of inclusion. May He open your eyes to show you that to be tolerant towards others’ beliefs, buying a box of chocolates from them and distributing it to children is not an act of sin but an act of kindness? Kindness, my dear neighbour, kindles affection, respect and tolerance — something our current generation is short on and our future generation needs desperately.
As Mothers, you and I are shaping Pakistan’s future generation, starting with our own children. Let us be fair and neutral in our teaching. While I apologise if my action brought hurt and dismay among your family elders, let them know I will still encourage my child to buy a box of Easter eggs next year for all her friends. Your child, and her friend, will always be welcome to take a bite.
Truly Yours
The Neutral Neighbour
The writer is a brand builder by profession and author of Songs of Our Times, an anthology of her poems. She blogs at: http://talkofourtimesasequel.blogspot.com
Published in Daily Times, April 1st 2018.