Starved of recognition, subjected to a decade of Islamophobia, bogged down by constantly worrying about what the ethnicity of the perpetrator of a particular violent event would be, the Muslims of Boston decided that enough was enough. Something had to be done, a message had to be sent. The message was that there was no conflict, no clash of civilisations, no incompatibility between the American Dream and American Islam. That the Muslims of America were just like their fellow secularised compatriots, they too aspired for peace, justice and prosperity. The message was loud and clear, we are happy. We too can wag our tails to the sound of some mesmerising idiotic beat that was engulfing the planet at the time. Chained by tradition? Conservative in our outlook? Nonsense! We can comply just as well as anyone. Look at us making fools of ourselves in the streets, at the T-stops, in the parks and on the pavements. Don’t equate us with our impoverished, culturally bound brethren from back home. We are different. Open, diverse, not held back by medieval interpretations. We’re educated, civilised, possess exposure, have traveled the world etc etc. Look at us twirl and convulse out in the open, professing our happiness. Look at all the walks of life that we inhabit, look at all our skin shades, the diverse array of countries we’ve forsaken for a better life, a more opulent life. We are just so happy to be part of this fabric, look at us spin and toss around. In the pursuit of happiness we have forsaken our accents, lost our sense of being, and ditched the cumbersome clothing. In other instances we have clung to the clothing, but have eviscerated our native body language. We’ve tossed out the old for the new, hip and happy, Boston our playground. Acknowledge us, look at us drowning in the seas of sameness, the sea of whiteness. We hop and skip around to the medley of autotune capitalism, in hopes that you, our magnanimous benefactor will allow us a seat at the table or if not a seat then perhaps toss us the scraps that you might have no use for. Under the star spangled banner, we, in our happy ecstasy, have no qualms with becoming yet another trophy community. Defanged, de-venomed, fully engaged in the raqs of pluralism. Do not fret about what we might have been, we assure you that nothing remains but our food and aesthetics, hollowed out to perfection. Our ultimate telos is identical to yours, in fact our historical arc was meant to turn out like yours. Your science and philosophy arose in our Baghdad and Andalusia. But fret not, we only aspire to become like you, think like you, act like you, and most importantly live like you. If we periodically express our dismay at what has been meted out to our brothers elsewhere, worry not, for after the anger has subsided we shall shop and dine at your temples of well-being. Just focus on our synchronised choreography. You worry so incessantly about us being primitive, but don’t you see how we’ve caught up with the times? Just look at how much we are prepared to transmutate. You worry unnecessarily about us holding on too tightly to an unchanging code revealed by an All-Knowing, All-Powerful, intervening God. Look at how porous we’ve made our boundaries, your worry is unwarranted. Please do not fear an Islamist uprising, we are simply Islamish. Blurred significantly by the equalising thrust of the American Way. The Way to which we dedicate this dance. We seek only that you allow us to continue to feast on this Valhalla-esque banquet that you have forged. We shall dare not question its origins, its close-knit relationship with the decimation of our brethren abroad. Or perhaps in a fit of desperation turn to our scriptures in hope of an alternative. Everything we possess we dedicate to you, everything we inherit we either discard or make subservient to your vision of the universe. Acknowledge us not as equals but as hostages who own a life debt to our captors, our saviours. It is for this we immigrated, it is for this we shall continue to immigrate, it is for this reason we waltz. Not for the timeless, but simply to be in this time only.
Afkar-e-Qurtuba 