Fatima Khalid

WHEN I graduated from high school about a year ago and embarked on my gap year, they were many with me who soon after got engaged and married. While some of these young brides chose to continue with their studies after their marriages, many chose to give up after a few half-hearted attempts and instead found logic in their decisions by asking themselves the same question we all were asking when we gave our first CIE exam and had to stay up nights crunching facts and figures: What’s the point?

Of course, back then we were reasoning that since all life would come to the same end, there was really no point in distinguishing ourselves from one another on the basis of the quantity and quality of education we gained. Not, we are now married and have our husbands to take care of us. That was back then, and this is now. It seems that this reasoning has taken root and is beginning to grow, slowly but steadily, in our mindsets—again. As women choose between further education and early marriages, it seems that the respectable marriageable age keeps getting pushed back down instead of further and that while our female population (or most of it) has eagerly embraced the independence of the modern age, our men prefer to stick stubbornly to the repressive past when our grandmothers got married at the age of 15 and had three children by twenty.

Many women choose to stick to that past too. Hence, the young-bride phenomena and the widespread endorsement of the idyllic notion that a woman who doesn’t want to pursue a career is devoted to her children, husband and the upbringing of a sehatmand khandaan. The career-woman, on the other hand, is selfish, immodest and her maternal instincts cannot be touted around. ‘This education,’ I hear aunties virtuously declare, ‘gives girls too many ideas. Simple BA karwao aur shaadiyan kardo.’

The truth is, of course, a partially educated bahu is less of a threat to her in-laws than a very-educated one and also ripe for learning necessary domestic skills. Ambitious women continue to be viewed suspiciously. Since they can earn themselves, they aren’t entirely reliable on their husbands and daily exposure to tricky work situations gives them the confidence to deal with family conflicts bravely. Their independence scares the more conservative families out of considering them as suitable prospects for their beloved sons. For God forbid, they might even turn out to be more qualified then those very sons who ‘deserve only the very best’. Another very illogical argument is that educated women are often ‘too old’. True, many women are pushing past 25 by the time they complete their education but if anything under 30 is young in the western world, why shouldn’t it be for us too?

There are a few exceptions that are made. Doctors, for instance—the trophy bahu-material. In a land where social stereotypes are believed to the extent of being celebrated, the female doctor is thrown into the role of a nurturing, generous figure (and for some reason, government hospitals have failed to disillusion the masses). Many are forced into going to med school for the sole purpose of getting good rishtas. Forget that many female doctors who get married off after the completion of their MBBS sometimes take a longer time to specialize in their chosen fields and complete their medical education or, as in some cases, discontinue their studies entirely (tossing five years of exorbitant tuition fees down the drain).

Then, there are also those who seek bahus with impressive degrees to trumpet as an achievement/ status symbol but not to actually put to use. A conversation with a friend whose mother is looking for rishtas for her older brother proved as much. They refused to consider a candidate who had only a Matric degree and hadn’t been to school since. ‘Why?’ I asked, since her own brother wasn’t of the academic variety either ‘Isn’t this what everyone looks for? The type to stay at home and cook and raise children?’ My friend failed to articulate, mumbling something about social ineptitude and no exposure, but I understood.

Thus, as I ponder on the track our society moves along (Backward? Forward?) I realize education and intellect would hardly compete with beauty and saleeqa (read docility) and bloodline when it comes to looking for the ideal bride. We cannot, of course, condemn those who willingly choose marriage over further education, or those who prefer not to wait until they are done with their education to get married. ‘You can’t hate them for not wanting the same things you do’, my friend tells me. But I can hope that they don’t find others to follow suit, for the very least our male-dominated society needs are more voice-less housewives. As we all continue to contribute to the very superficial society that we live in, I begin to question—in a country where unmarried women over 25 are viewed with pity, is education really an idealist’s slogan to success and happiness? From the minute a baby girl is born, a parent’s foremost aim is to have her happily married off as soon as she hits 25.

Dr Maleeha Lodhi

THE epic proportions of the floods in Pakistan would have stretched the capacity of any government. But there is also little doubt that the government has been unable during this unfolding disaster to show the leadership that the crisis expected of it. Six weeks after the floods struck the government still conveys an impression of being rudderless and lacking direction—other than in dispatching ministers to drum up international assistance. The resolve and resolution that the catastrophe demands of its leaders is nowhere in sight. If anyone has been setting a national example it is citizens and voluntary organisations engaged in heroic efforts to assist the flood victims. Where the government needed to rally the nation it only made exhortations. Where it needed to set a direction it fumbled and made gaffes that included misstating the estimated flood damage and accusing humanitarian organisations from overseas of not spending most of their funds for relief purposes. Far from offering reassurance officials conveyed a sense of helplessness. This has also eroded public confidence in the government’s ability to responsibly administer the gigantic task of rehabilitation and reconstruction that lies ahead once the floodwaters recede. The government’s poor management is not all that this disaster has exposed. It also laid bare three longer standing faultlines. The first relates to the dual society that the country has increasingly become.

What the floods exposed was the abject poverty and sub-human conditions in which millions of people have been condemned to live from neglect by successive governments – people whose destiny is forfeited to the crushing burden of their daily lives. Before the floodwaters washed away all that they had their life was a daily struggle against poverty and adversity, a silent emergency that seemed not to concern the country’s privileged elite , much less its rulers. The prolonged and unprecedented spotlight shone on how more than the other half lives is testimony to the monumental failure of the state under different managements to provide for their basic needs. The wages of official neglect are reflected in the multiple deprivations faced by the rural inhabitants of the areas hit by the floods especially in south Punjab and Sindh which are among the country’s most underdeveloped and where the vestiges of an anachronistic feudalistic order including bonded labour still survive. Images of impoverished flood victims battered as much by the raging waters as the rigours of their meagre living served as a reminder of the vast inequities that blight 21st century Pakistan. This makes even more compelling the need for reform and an urgent reordering of national priorities. Rather than issue warnings about a “bloody revolution” if flood victims do not receive help, political leaders should be thinking about reforms that can mitigate their suffering on a more enduring basis. The second of the faultlines highlighted by the tragedy are the bitter political and provincial divisions that have accompanied every phase of the widening disaster.

This has not only hobbled a robust national response but indicates deep schisms in the body politic. Political feuding has marked—or marred—relief disbursement and has often assumed provincial or regional overtones. The inability to forge political unity even in the face of such a catastrophe underscores how partisan interests and divisive politicking continues to trump a national approach. This is illustrated by the government’s refusal to set up an independent commission comprising neutral and credible figures to raise and oversee relief funds despite initially agreeing to opposition leader Nawaz Sharif’s proposal. Allegations and counter-allegations about the politicisation of flood relief have continued to echo across the country. Charges have been traded between the Centre and the Punjab government with the latter complaining of not receiving any money—as distinct from relief material. Fierce quarrels have raged over provincial shares in flood relief spending. A sense of unease has been created by the ethnic politics accompanying the influx of flood victims to cities in Sindh. The third faultline exposed and reinforced by the disaster is the deepening trust deficit that permeates the governance and the administrative system. It is also reflected in the modest amount of money the public has contributed to official relief funds.—KT

Mohammed Zubair

INDEED, the prayer restrains (one) from indecency and forbidden conduct” (29:45). The underlying idea behind this verse of the Holy Quran is twofold that is Salaat has got the spiritual effect of making an individual immune from vices. But this immunity from transgressing the commands of Allah is subject to the observance of Salaat constantly and regularly. This is similar to the need to give regular doses of medicine to a patient. To get rid of spiritual illness, one should present himself before Almighty Allah with all devotion of the heart and soul, and should not act contrary to the norms of His commands. In this way, the individual will himself feel how far his regularity in the observance of Salaat has exerted a salutary effect on him. The second underlying idea is the fact that after one’s covenant with Almighty God, while he presents himself before Allah with full devotion of the heart and soul, he should not act adversely to His commands. In other words, Salaat prohibits the devotees five times a day not to indulge in vices. It is now up the individual to go as far as possible in his honesty to keep up with his commitments to Allah. It is certainly an established fact that Salaat exerts spiritual influence on the individual. The Holy Quran is also explicit in this matter: “Surely Allah enjoins justice and kindness and giving (gifts) to kinsmen and forbids indecency, wrongdoing and rebellion. He admonished you so that you may be mindful” (16:90). It is hence unfortunate if, even after these exhortations by Allah one does not desist from indulgence in sins. It should be taken for certain that observance of Salaat five times a day is subject to obedience to the commandments of Allah. Salaat does not ordain one simply to carry out the exercise of sitting and standing. The main gist of its observance is remembrance of Almighty Allah. It all depends on how far an individual feels Allah’s presence around him, and how attentive his heart and soul are while reciting the Holy Quran. It is only when these two conditions are positively met that Salaat can stop him from indulging in sins. Otherwise, Salaat performed without observing these conditions is an exercise in futility performed by a hypocrite.

Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) has said, “the type of Salaat performed by (hypocrites) is devoid of Allah’s remembrance or has very little of it. What one (the hypocrite) gets out of this Salaat is nothing else other than widening of the gulf between him and Allah.” The Holy Quran testifies,” … And keep up the prayers for My remembrance” (20:114). Remembrance of Allah is the gist of all prayers, or else these are all exercises in futility. It is Allah’s remembrance that one must always carry out. Time and again the Holy Quran mentions three forbidden things: transgression, unwise action and indecency. Humans are bestowed with three instinctive powers, the bestial or carnal power, imaginative or satanic power and wrathful or carnivorous power. When rational power is overcast by satanic power unwise actions are committed. In case man is overcome by the wrathful sense, he crosses the human limits and becomes a brute. He plays violently with the life, property and honour of others with highhandedness. There regular observance of Salaat leaves a solitary effect on Muslims in such a manner as to keep these potential powers purified and duly controlled by wisdom.

The development of sublimity in the human character, quite averse to instinctive qualities, is generated in human nature by Allah’s remembrance quite often and very regularly five times a day. Sometimes some good acts over remembrance of Allah, but Allah’s favour should always be sought after. Anywhere, anytime if one feels inclined towards committing a sin, he should immediately divert his thoughts towards Allah. The Holy Quran and Hadith are very explicit on this matter. “Whenever a believer remembers Allah, he gets a response. This is a great honour which one should always seek.” Someone asked the Holy Prophet (peace be upon him) about an effective way among the several commandments of Allah, to desist oneself from indulging in sins. The holy Prophet (peace be upon him) told him: “Keep your tongue wet with Allah’s remembrance,” By this he meant that one should always pronounce Allah’s greatness. Shah Waliullah, an eminent Islamic scholar, in one of his treatises wrote: “The time spent in performing Salaat is well spent because one is away from committing sins.” This is an appropriate interpretation of the Quranic verse: “And, indeed, remembrance of Allah’s is the greatest (virtue). And Allah knows what you do” (29:45). It means Allah knows who is honest in his act and who is not. His treatment is according to the sincerity of each individual. “O Allah, please give us strength to observe Salaat in such a way which would bestow favour upon us.” Ameen!—GN