Sunday, May 22, 2011

Their love for me is nothing

It’s been a while since I last wrote about what has happened to me. Things are fine with my fear almost gone. However I still have fear of my parents and the damn pad lock (the one my dad used to lock me up with).

I’ve seen my family members outside a few times. I’ve seen my grandma, two of my aunties and my cousin sister whom I’m keeping in touch with.

It’s funny how despite after a year and 7 months my parents are still telling me to behave in the way they want me to. They didn’t bother searching for me, perhaps for fear of the law. However it seemed that somehow they got to see my pictures in Facebook. My cousin sister had uploaded pictures of us taken together right before we went clubbing.

I was wearing a mini skirt with tight toga top in that picture. When my mother found out, she immediately questioned my cousin regarding the picture. She didn’t ask about me, my contact details or even of my health, but her main worry was the way I was.

She asked my cousin to take down the pictures of me from Facebook. She told my cousin to tell me that I should dress properly and live properly (where ‘properly’ means according to Muslim ways), and then she further said that if any other Indian Muslim out there saw us the way we were, they would have killed us.

My mother still has the cheek to threaten me and my cousin! And then she went around telling my grandmother about this.

I had purposely added a cousin of mine who is also within the Jemaah (congregation) as my parents were, in Facebook. I also had purposely uploaded pictures of me in sleeveless tops drinking directly from a wine bottle just to know their reaction.

This immediately went into headline news. My grandmother, whom I trust a little due to her incapability to understand or know about Islam fully and who was also the only adult I’m keeping in contact with, called me up to ask me about this.

And she still has the cheek to tell me that as a Muslim, one shouldn’t drink or dress up indecently. I told her right to her face that I am not a Muslim; neither do I wish to ever be one anymore in my life.

She asked me what will people think when they see me how I dress up. Who cares? Come on, If I grow up caring about others who doesn’t give a damn about me, then who’s going to live my life?

She still could talk about me returning to Islam, and that it’s in my blood and that I shouldn’t leave it. I was quite pissed at this point, yet I have to respect her and have to acknowledge the fact that her knowledge of Islam was very limited. She has no clue what the deeper level of Islam reflects and even if I explain, she would go into denial.

Trying my best to conceal my anger, I went on asking her, why is it that when a Hindu or Christian converts into Islam, you do not question them, but when a Muslim converts out of Islam, you do.

I guess I got her as she went into a blabbering mode of repeating questions which I ignored completely.

In everything that has happened, I understood clearly. None of my family members had any clue of what my parents had actually done to me. None had the idea of the trauma I had been through. Even when I told my grandma about the trauma I went through and still am in, she keep trying to tell me to forgive and forget, saying that my parents love me and that they wouldn’t do it to me again.

What she isn’t willing to see, which she was quite often repeating to me was that the fact that despite their love, what hurts them most, the reason they want me back was for one thing – to get back their honor that they had lost.  Perhaps it may not be to kill me, which I’ll never know but I am extremely aware of, but they have mentioned several times to my grandma and my aunties that they wished to marry me off to my husband in an Islamic way.

I rejected Islam way before my husband came into my life. I rejected Islam and hated Islam vehemently after they locked me up and more than anything, I’m already married in the eyes of the law. What is this rubbish talk of marrying me off to the same man that I’m already married to?

Are they mad? I can’t help but wonder. It is madness what they are saying, and it is madness if they expect me to pity them and go back to them.

Yes, I love them and yes, I so badly want to see my mother, talk to her, care for her, but I wouldn’t wish to risk my life for it, or risk my freedom. What saddens me is that till this moment, they are not realizing their fault and they blame it on me for leaving, for dishonoring.

Even my uncle, who had whacked me up and my husband on the 24th of December 2009, regretted his violent act, according to my grandmother, but my parents never once mentioned that they were sorry. All they asked was where they went wrong in nurturing me.

So my life right now, my freedom right now, my happiness right now meant nothing to them. They couldn’t bear the fact that I had dishonored their family and that I am living a life without their control, without any need of worrying.

To them, I’m living a shameless lifestyle like an animal and the fact that I don’t give a fuck irritates them. It took me some time to realize that their love for me is nothing. All they want is to restore their honor, however they could. The question is to either kill me or control me once again and I will not bring myself to put me back into such a position!
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