(The Book Review, Volume XXXVII No. 10 - OCTOBER 2013)
A Human Interest Tale
Juanita Kakoty
I must confess that the sight of a ghetto, particularly one
with a Muslim core, used to stir emotions in me not too comfortable stemming
from the obvious fear associated with the ‘other’. This fear was difficult to
explain because all my life I had never ever been directly confronted by a
Muslim; but the fear struck when I would see somebody performing the namaaz, men in beard dressed in white
and a skull cap, the sight of black masses beneath which I understood were
women. All this evoked a fear that even bordered on irritation.
I, like many, suffered from this inexplicable fear. Just the
sight of the burqa, surma in men’s eyes, the black thread
with an amulet sticking to the throat etc. roused that fear although I had some
closest friends who were Muslims. Somehow they just didn’t seem “Muslim”. I
still remember an incident from my graduation days. My close friend Shahida
Hussain had got chicken pickle from home and all of us were devouring it.
During the feast I said that I had only once before eaten chicken pickle, to
which she replied, “At some Muslim’s place undoubtedly!” And quick came the
reply from me, “No, at an Assamese’s place.” I still remember the look she gave
me and what she said thereafter, “Aren’t Muslims Assamese?” That look and query
haunted me for a long time.
I understood this fear as a “social construction” only during
my Master’s in the university: A fear constructed by the media, by people who nurture
that the good of one’s religion can be best highlighted by maligning the other
religion, that the goodness in oneself can be pronounced only by demonizing the
“other”. Hence, I value university education a lot. It taught me that fears
emerge from creating distances, physically and in the mind too, from those who
are not like us. And then, in time, I married a Muslim and with that traces of
fear about the “other” even at the sub-conscious level vanished. As I
interacted more with my husband’s family and people from his community, I got
used to seeing women in the hijab and
burqa and it stopped seeming strange
any more. Salaam Aleikum, Khuda Hafiz, inshAllah were words that began to
feature in my life regularly along with Namaste,
Bhagvan etc. and they ceased to terrify me. The “other” became so regular
and ordinary for me that I stopped taking notice.
About a year ago, my husband and I acquired an apartment in
New Delhi’s Shaheen Bagh area, a Muslim neighborhood close to Jamia Milia
Islamia. A few of my non-Muslim friends and family members were apprehensive
about this move. But as they frequented us, their perspectives changed and this
is what they have to tell me now, “What lovely neighbors you have! Where in the
whole of Delhi would you get neighbors so helpful and concerned?” And it’s
true. As we moved into the house, with our four month old daughter, my
neighbors paid us a visit. They even sent us food. Food, interestingly, is how
we bond in this neighborhood. There is a regular flow of food into my house and
I send food too to my neighbors; be it Eid or any other day, whenever somebody
cooks some special dish, a portion is sent across to the neighbors. There is a
great sense of satisfaction and bonhomie in it. My neighbors, like my in-laws,
know that I am a Hindu and accept me for who I am, what I am. And I respect
them for this.
Some of my neighbors are the early residents of Shaheen Bagh.
They preserve the oral history of the neighborhood. I seek, here, to construct
the past of the area with the help of their narratives. Shaheen Bagh is a
neighborhood along the banks of the river Yamuna at Jamia Nagar, Okhla in South
Delhi. On the other side of the Yamuna lies the city of Noida. Rashida Baji, a
resident, tells me, “Shaheen Bagh comes under Abul Fazal Enclave Part Two. It
stretches from Thokar (lane) No. 6 to Thokar (lane) No. 9. The area is in Delhi
but the road by the Yamuna belongs to the government of Uttar Pradesh just like
the park at Thokar No. 9.”
Munni Baji (Faizun Nisa), 45 years old, came here in 1996.
“There must have been about 50 houses only in the whole of Shaheen Bagh when I
came. People used to come here from Jasola to cut grasses. This whole area was
used for cultivation,” she tells me. “And at Thokar No. 7, where our house is,
there were about 3 – 4 houses in all and lots of water and big grasses all
around. Around that time, land rates were very low, at 1.5 lakhs for 150 Gaz.
That’s the rate at which we had bought our plot of land.” Today, land is no
longer available here and the real estate business is going strong.
“Shaheen Bagh was much below the water level and was always
inundated with floods. We filled our plot with earth up to 7 feet before
building the house. Even now we need to fill the plot with about 5 feet of
earth more to come up to the street level,” continues Munni Baji as we enter
her house from the street and go down a few stairs from the main gate towards
her courtyard that has pomegranate and mango trees besides other shrubs.
There are interesting anecdotes to share too. Rashida Baji
and Munni Baji, who have grown as thick as sisters over the years, run their
tailoring business from a room at one corner of the latter’s courtyard. Sitting
there, Munni Baji narrates, “Till 1997, there was no electricity in Shaheen Bagh.
My husband and a neighbor got some wire bundles and bamboo poles and set up
electricity lines illegally from Abul Fazal Part One till our house. We had to
pay a fine of Rs 12,000 for this when a raid happened. It was in 2005-6 that
electricity was legalized in this area.”
Times have changed. Today, there are buildings all around and
only a very few like Munni Baji have resisted the temptation to cash in on the
real estate boom. They still maintain their house the way it was, with the
courtyard. But, Munni Baji reminisces, “The earth used to be more fertile those
days.”
Rashida Sameer, 36 years old, came to Shaheen Bagh in 2002.
She recollects, “There were houses then, no flats. I could then see the Yamuna
from my house at the ground floor. Slowly, a second-hand furniture market came
up here and the density of population increased. There were many mosquitoes too
at that time, because there was no drainage for water. It is since 2009 that
facilities like drainage, installation of sewers and converting ‘kuccha’ road
to ‘pucca’ road happened.”
Rasheeda Sameer continues, “Till 2003-4, the Yamuna used to
be filled with migratory birds. That changed and the birds suddenly stopped
coming. I see a few birds this year again (end of 2012). That’s a good sign.” Shaheen
Bagh overlooks the Okhla Bird sanctuary. It pains me to see how a neighborhood
by the river, overlooking a bird sanctuary, has the potential to look good but
no efforts have been undertaken towards that end.
I often go to the Okhla Bird Sanctuary and the nearby park at
Thokar No. 9 with my female neighbors dressed in the burqa. The burqa is no
hindrance to how we connect or how much fun we have when together. They follow
their religion and I mine. It’s not religion that binds us. Or maybe it is. Because
it is only those most comfortable with their own religion and identity who can
respect that of another.
A lucid narrative embracing many facets :)
ReplyDeletethanks Mikkie ba :)
DeleteSuch nycly described
ReplyDeletethank you :)
Deletedats very nice... the situation between u and sahida... it happened many a times between me and some of my friends back home... hope your article breaks some prejudices among people...
ReplyDeletethank you! :)
DeleteWhy can't everyone think like you...why have everyone pigeon holed themselves with their own ideologies...as you have rightly said the solution to all problems lies in coming closer...agree on similarities and respect other's differences
ReplyDeleteGood piece...:)
ReplyDelete