In one of my photography classes a few months before leaving for India, we looked at a collection of photographs by Poulomi Basu (http://www.poulomibasu.com/boxers.html) of Muslim women training in boxing.
"Life, of course, must be difficult at times for a young, single, Muslim woman in India," my teacher said.
And though I will never face the struggles that many of these women do, I nervously smiled thinking that, to an extent, those are the shoes I will be putting myself in in the the coming months.
My religion hasn't come up many times here. Just the handful of times I have rejected a drink, or have been asked what my religion is. While I don't practice Islam as rigorously as I ought to, I always have and will recognize myself as being Muslim.
It has never made me feel like I belong to the same community as a handful of extremists who manipulate their religion to serve their own horrific ends. And while such negative perceptions seem to pervade the West more and more everyday, an age old conflict exists here between Muslims and Hindus.
Only on a few occasions have I seen its sentiments first hand. Once, talking to a lovely woman, that I have grown very fond of:
"You can never ever trust a Muslim," she said, as we sat on her couch.
Immediately, I responded, "Auntie (the respectful way to address an elder), I am Muslim."
"Not all fingers come from the same hand," she said. Then, it seemed like that was the end of the matter.
This morning, the maid pointed at the burning incense and an idol of Ganesha, asking me if I pray to him. I shook my head. She pointed at me, "Christian?"
"No, Muslim."
Her jaw dropped, she turned to the other maid and said something in Hindi. Then, the kitchen fell silent. Moments passed, and then we were back to laughing and playing with the baby.
In expressing to another friend that I am Muslim, after hearing his criticisms, he said his issue was only with Indian Muslims.
Had I heard such comments second hand, I may have felt victim. But, speaking to these friends first hand, I know that they are wonderful people. I have trouble, of course, reconciling such statements with that. I know that any such prejudice and generalizations are wrong, so I can say "you're wrong." Then what? I can't pretend to understand the circumstances they were raised in, the prejudice they may have faced, or the beliefs that have been passed down to them.
I will not suggest that this is a one-sided conflict. I expect many Muslims reciprocate with a distaste for Hindus, but I can only speak for what I have seen and know.
It's dangerous perhaps to touch on a conflict so vast through only a couple of instances, but once again, I can only speak of what I know. I record this not out of anger, but simply as all of my other posts: as a new experience that I will try to better understand through reflection.
"Life, of course, must be difficult at times for a young, single, Muslim woman in India," my teacher said.
And though I will never face the struggles that many of these women do, I nervously smiled thinking that, to an extent, those are the shoes I will be putting myself in in the the coming months.
My religion hasn't come up many times here. Just the handful of times I have rejected a drink, or have been asked what my religion is. While I don't practice Islam as rigorously as I ought to, I always have and will recognize myself as being Muslim.
It has never made me feel like I belong to the same community as a handful of extremists who manipulate their religion to serve their own horrific ends. And while such negative perceptions seem to pervade the West more and more everyday, an age old conflict exists here between Muslims and Hindus.
Only on a few occasions have I seen its sentiments first hand. Once, talking to a lovely woman, that I have grown very fond of:
"You can never ever trust a Muslim," she said, as we sat on her couch.
Immediately, I responded, "Auntie (the respectful way to address an elder), I am Muslim."
"Not all fingers come from the same hand," she said. Then, it seemed like that was the end of the matter.
This morning, the maid pointed at the burning incense and an idol of Ganesha, asking me if I pray to him. I shook my head. She pointed at me, "Christian?"
"No, Muslim."
Her jaw dropped, she turned to the other maid and said something in Hindi. Then, the kitchen fell silent. Moments passed, and then we were back to laughing and playing with the baby.
In expressing to another friend that I am Muslim, after hearing his criticisms, he said his issue was only with Indian Muslims.
Had I heard such comments second hand, I may have felt victim. But, speaking to these friends first hand, I know that they are wonderful people. I have trouble, of course, reconciling such statements with that. I know that any such prejudice and generalizations are wrong, so I can say "you're wrong." Then what? I can't pretend to understand the circumstances they were raised in, the prejudice they may have faced, or the beliefs that have been passed down to them.
I will not suggest that this is a one-sided conflict. I expect many Muslims reciprocate with a distaste for Hindus, but I can only speak for what I have seen and know.
It's dangerous perhaps to touch on a conflict so vast through only a couple of instances, but once again, I can only speak of what I know. I record this not out of anger, but simply as all of my other posts: as a new experience that I will try to better understand through reflection.
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