“Being a secular Muslim is difficult in India. More so if you are blunt like the way Manto and Hamid Dalwai were.”
Versova resident, Vipassana practitioner-instructor, French tutor Shehnaaz Sheikh (59) deals with her multiple identities as she begins to write her biography. Sumedha Raikar-Mhatre asks her about the current-day relevance of being the first Indian Muslim woman who challenged the Muslim Personal law in Supreme Court way back in 1983.
On the coming March 8th International Women’s Day, Shehnaaz Sheikh will celebrate the 18th anniversary of her marriage with French scholar Jean Pierre. She will also complete 25 years as a practicing Buddhist who has devised a distinctive meditation technique for her student practitioners. Both the personal milestones matter in Sheikh’s life especially when she has decided to look back at her younger self in the context of writing her memoir. At 24, divorced and thrown out of the house by her husband, she became the first Indian Muslim woman who challenged the Muslim Personal law (which upheld the right of her husband to an instant divorce) in the Supreme Court in 1983. Today at the age of 59, she wants to memorialize the bygone era in which she stood against an accepted social practice -- a period which was not just momentous for her, but of consequence to any Indian who has experienced Mumbai in the two riotous decades of the last century.
Interestingly, the impact of the 1992 riots and the 1993 serial blasts in Mumbai doesn’t leave Sheikh even today. In January 2019, when she was watching the movie Thackeray, the communal conflagration came alive in her consciousness. It strengthened her resolve to tell her side of the story as a Mumbaikar, as a Muslim woman who grew up in Santa Cruz and schooled in St Teresa’s Convent, as a second year BA student pulled out of the Mithibai college and put under house arrest in Jaipur before being married off to a man twice her age. In fact she feels her years as a young divorcee coping with Muslim fundamentalists needs to be recounted at this juncture of worldwide Islamophobia. Not just while watching popular movies and plays, but she often senses how difficult it is for Muslim secularists, men and women to maintain their sanity. “You just don't belong and you have to keep proving your loyalty to the state. And, if you happen to be candid like Manto or Hamid Dalwai, then an added hell awaits you.” She recalls her work in the riot-ridden Mumbai of the nineties, particularly when she was living in Nagpada as part of a conscious effort to embrace the community from within.
In fact there was a period when Sheikh did everything to counter wrong perceptions. She completed her graduation and studied personal laws, particularly Sharia in letter and spirit, so that she could not be called an outsider. She spoke on various social fora in the city and traveled widely. Her identity as a Mumbaikar remained central to her being, in all these efforts. “Today, I have my own definition of who I am … I am a proud Maharashtrian, a confirmed Mumbaikar, an Indian Muslim, a practicing Buddhist and above all a human being who feels honored to be born a woman. This is irrespective of being called a 'kafir' in the Islamic countries, a spy in Pakistan and a suspected terrorist at all international airports, thanks to my last name,” she adds in jest.
Sheikh’s urge to dwell on her identity crisis has been triggered by two mass movements. First, #Metoo protests of women against sexual perpetrators from across social spheres; second, women risking life and limb in a bid to enter Kerala’s Sabarimala temple. Sheikh feels an instant connect with the distinct women who have dared patriarchal power structures in their individual way. “Much like my decision to challenge a law that made me a destitute overnight, these women have questioned set systems and behaviors which are not fair. I feel a sense of proximity towards the known and faceless women who have risen with ferocity.”
Sheikh feels that there is never an easy period for any rights movement, but the eighties and nineties had a special set of challenges, which is why there is a need to acknowledge the women and institutions which helped shape the national narrative in those times. “In the pre-mobile phone era, summoning a small-scale meeting of women, more so Muslim women, was tough. Similarity, doing the paperwork for a case to be fought in the country’s highest court, required unimaginable logistics,” gushes Sheikh who at one point lived in disguise (as a Hindu with a prominent bindi) in New Delhi after she filed her first-of-its-kind petition before the Supreme Court. That was her only way to save her life against the backdrop of a fatwa issued in most mosques of the country. “I was the kafir ladki who had challenged the 1400-year-old Islam. My husband who had thrown me out of the house without notice was passé,” she observes recalling how she narrowly escaped an attack by a riotous mob wielding iron rods outside the precincts of the court. “It was good luck and good friends which saved me, or else I could have died long ago. I have to pass the sense of gratitude to the younger generation which is not necessarily cognizant of the rich history of women’s movement in Mumbai,” says Sheikh who received the Neerja Bhanot award in 1993 for exceptional bravery and constructive work for women.
Sheikh is often asked about her current life as a counselor and Vipassana practitioner. There is a curiosity about the life she lived as a monk for two years at the meditation centre in Igatpuri, where she studied Pali. Her practice necessitates zones of silence for self-discovery. She has conducted Vipassana for a diverse set of audiences – the inmates of Tihar Jail, children of orphanages and groups like Friends of Tibet. She also has a Diploma in Buddhist Studies from Mumbai University. Ever since she left Awaz-e-Niswaan due to health reasons, she been working on the reorientation of the self; writing being part of the catharsis. “Writing infuses bits of the past into the present.”
Sheikh feels she needs to seek new answers to questions oft-asked. For instance, she was asked by journalists about “how she feels” when the Supreme Court recently struck down instant Triple Talaq. She is obviously happy that the court had given a historic judgement, albeit her own case (which addressed the entire Muslim Personal Law and not just Talaq) has gone into oblivion. “Any record ruling is welcome. But it takes time to show results in women’s lives. Behavioral changes are the most difficult to execute, and not just in Muslim, but any society,” she adds, recalling her own struggle to get signatories on her petition when she was trying to strengthen her argument in the court. Except for a few intellectuals like actor Shabana Azmi and writer Ismat Chugtai, no one openly supported her stance. Had it not been for the moral and legal succor provided by the Forum Against Oppression of Women and the Lawyer’s Collective, Sheikh would not have survived the wrath she invoked by first demanding a clarity in her marital status and second uniting Muslim women in untouched pockets of Mumbai. “Individual burkha-clad Muslim women took immense risks to even attend meetings. Women did a great job of cementing relations during the riots. I think each of these small seemingly-powerless women need to be celebrated.”
Shehnaaz Sheikh feels the failures of the past should become lessons for the present, not solely in the context of the women’s movement. She feels any feminist ideology is not enough to bind women. “Indian feminist groups, mostly the Left-liberal blocs, need to do a serious stocktaking of the achievements so far. Seldom are groups ready for reflection, they are fiercely into the ‘do-do-do’ mode,” she states the momentum of the eighties can be restored if women see the reason to step back and reflect and strategize better. “Times are changing. Everyone in the administration seems to be fully agreeable on women’s rights. The climate seems so favorable, and the policies so conducive. But why is it that excesses against women continue?” she stresses the need to dissect the political correctness surrounding the pro-women rhetoric.
If there is one area where women’s groups lack the most, in Sheikh’s eyes, it is their failure to address matters of faith. Religious faith is a huge binding factor in India, it provides the core for many movements which advocated social reform. “Why is it that such reform movements – be it Sufi, Buddhist, Sikh or the Bhagwat Dharm of Maharashtra – could hold on to the masses despite their radical thought? They were not labeled elitist, but feminist groups are easily misunderstood? Why do well-meaning women’s organizations become targets of hatred? Why are they termed ‘Western’ while Saint Dyaneshwar (who also spoke of human equality) is embraced?” she questions. Women’s movement needs to factor in a more organic and inclusive approach, which takes into account the inner healing that women (and people in general) are seeking. She says India has been home to many spiritually healing forces – ranging from Khwaja Moinuddin Chisti to the more recent Vinoba Bhave and Jayaprakash Narayan. “By being more open to the definition of religious faith, we can stop playing into the hands of fundamentalist forces. We can’t be fundamental while dealing with fundamentalism.” That is shooing away the inner demons before ousting the outer ones!
Sumedha Raikar-Mhatre
Sumedha is a Mumbai-based culture columnist and a public diplomacy practitioner.
sumedha.raikar@gmail.com