Ayesha Fazalur Rehman
What makes a good gift? Anything appealing or useful. The beauty of a gift, for me, lies in whether it is a ritualistic offering or something given because someone wanted to. Birthday gifts fall in the ritual-gifts category. No-occasion presents are the best: they take you by surprise and are more about something bigger than any occasion. You can also know for sure that such gifts are given of free will and not under duress! Clichéd as it may sound, there are also those gifts that people just keep giving beyond the limits of space and time.
Last week at work I went to my colleague Cynthia’s desk looking for a pen. This was the second-last day of Ramzan. She handed me a pen and casually pointed to a large gift-wrapped packet that she had brought for me: it was a framed picture, an Eid gift. While she does belong to the Christian faith, this is not an interfaith story, for it was a most natural gesture full of not tolerance, but loving acceptance of me and my day of celebration that was coming up. In a world rife with suspicion if not outright hate, this is no mean gift.
Rewind to 2007 when I was studying in Boston. Harvard university, my alma mater, connects international students to local people who volunteer to host them, ease them in the new country, take them shopping etc. I hit the jackpot with Mary Beth Pearlberg, the host I was connected to. One Ramzan afternoon Mary Beth asked if I was free for lunch. Yes, I was free. So what if I was fasting, I thought, we could catch up, she could eat and I could pack my food for Iftar, no problem.
Except, I had neglected to take into account my friend and how she would be effected by this. Seated at the restaurant table, I disclosed my plan nonchalantly. Poor Mary Beth was caught in a flurry of guilt, apologizing for not remembering I would be fasting, full of remorse for asking to see me that afternoon. She was not to be comforted until I had agreed to let her pay for my meal that I would have later in the evening. Other than the free meal, Mary Beth gave me the gift of sensitivity and considerateness beyond what I could expect or even imagine.
Cynthia’s gift will grace the wall behind my desk in my home office; what I will carry always with me is her generously stepping into my world, and making it her own, thus expanding both our worlds. Mary Beth’s empathy for this fasting sistah also stays with me; through all the friction created by the current US president, through news reports of episodes of Islamophobia there, I know one warm light still glows in that country, and many others like her, that make the world a better place.
While the scholars pontificate and talk show hosts wax eloquent on this religion and that schism, while arm chair philosophers worry about the state of the world, my sistahs walk the talk to build little aastanas around them. Much like the aastanas of a sufi’s shrine, these too are doors to safe havens of acceptance, belonging, and of course, love.
