[Reader-list] Unexpected, expected, unexpected

[mamta mantri]

This happened last week. I met Mr. Salim, the manager
of Shalimar cinema, and was simply chatting with him.
(He was really cold last time, but opened up this
time). So apart from other things, the conversation
boiled down to “why was I not getting married?”), very
obviously. (of course, I could have stopped and run
away, but wanted to see the fun). So he gave numerous
‘logical reasonings’ ---- So what if they want dowry,
So what if you earn more and are more educated than
him, you must get married.[ A woman is meant to serve
only, according to the Quran---was his explanation].
Of course, he would not be interested in listening to
my side of the story. 

Going, going, going, the monologue boiled down to
Islam as a religion. His many reasoning--- simplest
religion, ‘no one goes away once converted to Islam’,
‘Hindus worship the sun, but it does set down; some
one does it and that’s Allah’, ‘of 4 people in the
world, 2 are Muslims, because the procedures are
simple’, ‘The French are scared that they will rename
their nation as Islamic Republic of France’. (I am
nodding my head in knowing silence). “You must read
the Quran, it is available in translation, Be open to
the idea (I was waiting for this to happen, but not so
soon), Get married, there’s no happiness and
belongingness like one’s own home and children.” 
  
Anyways, he asked me about my father’s occupation. “He
is an accountant in a Marwari Pedi—the cloth market at
Kalbadevi”, I replied. He assumingly said that he
would not be earning more than 6-7000. (Oh my
gawd!!!!, how could he say such a thing, we are
definitely better off than what he thinks us to be).
Well, all this time, I was thinking of the duality of
two different systems and their values, one that
‘English education’ taught us- individualism,
secularism, liberalism etc etc; as against his values-
community, womanhood, kids, religion etc. But this
comment about our financial statues was a real turner.
I now wanted to find a chance to look down upon him,
and I was lucky that day. He was about to leave for
home, and I saw his very ‘purana’ scooter with the
side guard (which was old and rotten iron patra, and
full of holes). 

I was glad I could look down upon him, forgetting
about the conversation and the larger issue
(religion/fundamentalism). I guess that’s what
happened to our freedom fighters. Guess that’s how we
got our freedom?   


mamta

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