Month: January 2015

Hypocrites against Blasphemy

I don’t know the punishment of blasphemy. In fact I don’t know when it is blasphemy or when it is not. When it comes to making of cartoons of religious figures, it is blasphemy. But what is the punishment for it? I don’t know. No one knows as it seems. Different religious scholars have different theories. Some favor punishment and others are of the view that ignoring them is the best response.

I don’t know what the punishment is when the blasphemer is non-Muslim.

But I do have certain arguments. People, who were laughing out loud on Pk movie regarding fun made of Hinduism, are the same who are showing approval regarding mass killing of editors and cartoonists in Paris. Isn’t it hypocrisy?

Those who believe Denmark and France are committing blasphemy should also boycott movies like Pk and should condemn where ever there is mockery of religion or holy personalities regardless of any religion.

We don’t need to go into Islamic details to find out where we stand on our personal levels of hypocrisy. We laugh on the most vulgar and abusive jokes of stage dramas, but we get angry when someone abuses us.

Why do we like someone else punished for the actions which we ourselves have as habits? Isn’t blasphemy happening all over Pakistan and other Muslim countries in different forms?

The couple burned in Kot Radha Kishan was not convicted of blasphemy. All those who burned them were actually the blasphemers.

Islam is the religion of peace. Islam teaches us to be respectful to all religions and humans. It frustrates me when people make fun of Islam. I feel gutted. But when others (only some of them) are making fun of our religion, we are killing them in the name of the same religion. Isn’t it a major hypocrisy and a major sin?

How are we going to preach them in future? How are we going to have religious debates with them? And how they will understand us when we have pistol in one hand and fatwa on the other?

Who are we to decide that people need to be punished? And who are we to decide what punishment suits their sins? How are we so sure that that punishment is death?

I feel that we are perpetually stuck in a vicious cycle of self-destruction.

They make fun of us; we react; they make fun of us again. We kill them; they call us extremists. You have to admit; killing is a bit extreme.

Let us assume, for argument’s sake that they are the enemies of our religion.

How are we bringing our religion a good name? We lie; we cheat; we rob; we steal. And then all of sudden we stand up to protect Islam.

If they are the enemies of our religion; are we the friends?

When a movie offends another religion and some ‘sensitive’ people of that religion demand that the movie be banned, we raise hue and cry over that.

If a joke is directed at other religions, we can easily see the humor in it. But when the joke is directed at our religion, it becomes intolerable. Personally, I believe there shouldn’t be disrespect for any religion; be it a satirical or humorous.

We can find no remorse in our hearts for 14 people who are killed because they printed and obnoxious and offensive content. And rows upon rows of hateful messages directed to them do not faze us. We are not ruling France. There is no Caliphate in France. We should have demonstrated our views peacefully. But killing in the name of Islam where the state and government is not Muslim is not the right way. We can teach but we cannot kill. We need to condemn it. Muslim scholars need to condemn it like Nouman Ali Khan did.

Why is it not hate speech when we rejoice in the killing of people?

Why must we comment and dissect and approve or disapprove of people’s actions?

Why can’t the judging be left to God?

Why can’t we practice a little self-reflection?

A little tolerance?

A little love?

I vote for peace; for mutual respect; for patience.

I vote for an end to hypocrisy.

I vote for Islam.

Do you?

She

Everyone is alone. So was she. She used to think about her loneliness. She loved to share her loneliness and misery with her friends and loved ones. Sometimes, she wondered how she was lonely if she had a lot of people to talk about her loneliness with.

This was not all. This is not all. She meant to be different from the others. She was not like most girls. She was not into fashion, jewelry, pearls, curves or attention. She was who she was. She meant to be unique.

And she was.

Her life had been defined… her gender by society and profession by her parents. She was a thinker. She used to think even in her profession. She was known to be a thinker among her friends. But she was lonely.

She remembers what went wrong. It was just a small incident of touch… a touch she didn’t allow, but she was never asked. She was touched where she didn’t feel comfortable.

With fire and fear in her eyes, she couldn’t stop him.

How could she stop him? He was a gentleman. A family member. He is still a gentleman and a family member. He resolves family issues. He is the one who is usually asked to recite naats during gatherings and performing ghussals in family funerals.

That gentleman took the basics of her life away. Her natural feelings from childhood to adolescence to teenage to a girl and to a loving wife; all were taken away. She was not normal. She was alone. She was deprived internally. Nothing had filled the emptiness inside.

How could she tell her newly married husband to stay away from this gentleman? How could she tell someone in the family that the gentleman is not a gentleman? The effects could be long and devastating. She was afraid. She was alone.

A boy came in her life after a year of marriage; a beautiful and healthy lad. That gentleman started to visit again more regularly. His gentleness was the same. She saw the animal. He saw a prey. A new and young prey. She was standing at the same place where she stood two decades back. Because she was alone.

She started to guard her boy like a lioness.

One day; an unfortunate day, her worst nightmare came true. She saw the same fire and fear in the eyes of her lad. That was it. That was enough to bring out the lioness in her.

Was she to blame? Her silence was to blame or her loneliness? Her fears were to blame or her nightmares?

She stabbed the gentleman. She stabbed him again and again and again… until she was done. Her husband was watching. Many relatives were present in the courtyard. They all saw. They all believed that she was wrong. She was mad. She smiled for the first time after her delivery. She laughed for the first time since who knows when.

Of course she was mad. Because she was the only one who knew the truth.

She doesn’t know where she is now. Sometimes she wakes up in a court; sometimes in a jail; sometimes in a ward.

But she doesn’t care because her other half is safe.

Is he?

Aren’t there more gentlemen around?