Dear Imam, what if you find that you’ve fallen for someone who is not Muslim?
Answer: Thank you for your relevant question. Living in a diverse society such as ours, this is bound to occur as we interact with each other on equitable and ethical terms (hopefully) in the large melting cauldron called America. As the cauldron swirls, we may notice the very admirable features and impeccable characters of many of the non-Muslim peoples that are bobbing alongside us. (Janna, does this sound too much like I’m describing the bobbing-for-apples pot I saw at the harvest fair with you when you were six? And, I tremble here, does this analogy seem LOQUACIOUS? Forgive me if so and adjust as you see fit.) The question we must ask ourselves at this point—a very tricky question to ask at a time of being intrigued by someone—is: Will this person hold dear the same things that I will in life? Will it be as important to them to observe Ramadan properly, bundling up in the winter months to head to the mosque in the evenings when there is work in the mornings; will they cherish the times and sanctity of prayers for my family as I will; will they observe the ritual cleansing acts so important to a Muslim; and so on. Perhaps the most important question one would need to ask of oneself is, Do I hold dear these things? If so, a reevaluation of the attraction and the potential for realistic fruition may be in order. If not, Allah is the most aware of your situation and the one to turn to, being the best of all guides. I can offer no other advice than this. And Allah knows best.
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We meet at the Book Nook at five because Sausun says it’s going to take at least an hour to “get into character.” She hustles me into a bathroom and locks us into a wheelchair accessible stall, extra wide.
“If you fidget with your abaya and niqab, he’ll know you’re not the real thing. Which means he won’t be convinced enough to get scared of you, which, knowing you, will get you scared and then, wham, you’ll blow your cover. Pun intended.” She unfolds a black cloak—an abaya. “Sorry, this is kind of long. Ruki’s almost a foot taller than you.”
“So, because I won’t be able to see a hundred percent through my niqab, I’ll probably trip on this thing and fall?”
“No, because a niqab doesn’t mean you can’t see. Actually, your sense of sight is accentuated, sort of like the way a blind person’s sense of hearing becomes sharper. Your eyes are all you’ve got so . . .”
I look at her doubtfully as she holds open the abaya for me.
“Relax. You’re not wearing the type I have on, no eye screen. Your eyes will get total freedom.”
Just not my nose and mouth. Well, my mouth is going to get the freedom to tell him off, even if it’s in a muffled way.
I finish buttoning up the abaya and wait as Sausun does some complicated thing with the head scarf portion of the outfit.
“I’m folding this so it’s not as long and won’t drape onto your arms. That way you can actually move your arms to lift up the bottom of the abaya, because, man, that’s one looong dress.”
She winds the scarf around my head and secures it with pins. Then she takes out the final piece of my outfit: the face veil or niqab, a small rectangular piece of black fabric with ties extending on either side. I feel a welling inside me, like a case of hyperventilating is about to unleash itself.
“I’m claustrophobic. Severely,” I pant.
Sausun stops moving, the niqab dangling from her hand by one of the ties. “Do you want to do this or not?”
I don’t say anything and stare at the niqab swinging slightly.
“Do you? Do you want him to keep thinking he’s got you in control, like he’s going to dictate how you act, how free you are, just because you won’t give in to him? Do you want to put a stop to one more perverted scum acting all holy or not? There are too many in the world—come on already.”
I pretend it isn’t tears that drop onto the black fabric of the niqab as I bring it to my face. I join the ties at the back of my head myself before looking up. The first thing I see out of my niqabbed face is Sausun’s eyes, wet, before she lowers her mesh eye screen on top of them.
We’re two sad and angry women, about to wreak vengeance on one unsuspecting monster. I lead the way out of the bathroom stall.
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The first thing I notice about wearing the niqab is that you have to like your own breath. Lunch was a handful of sour cream and onion chips, so I’m not having much fun. The walking candy store helps out by handing me two Wint O Green Life Savers from her bulging laptop case as she opens it to set up her equipment. Her eye screen is flipped back so she can work. We’re in the coffee shop area of the store, with mellow French music playing.
“For the first part, where you’re stalking him, use your phone cam. I can clean it up after,” Sausun says. “I’ll be here. You’ve got to get him into view of my laptop cam before doing your spiel. We need to get a frontal view on tape.”
I avert my gaze from a girl paying at the counter who looks vaguely familiar. Was she in my English class?
“Janna. Nobody knows it’s you. Even your mom.”
“I have expressive eyebrows. They have a life of their own.” I wiggle them to make my case. “I should have grown them out or something.”
“No offense but your eyebrows are nothing special.” Sausun finishes positioning her laptop. “I’m going to go stand where you need to be standing with the asshole. To give you an idea of where to get him cornered.”
I sit in her chair and look at the image on the screen. I click record as Sausun comes into view, doing a twirl near the bookcases that say BARGAIN FINDS. A man in teeny shorts steps back from her, holding his coffee away. She curtsies and makes an after-you motion with her hands. Teeny-shorts man frowns and strides off, holding his coffee aloft.
Sausun walks back, with a lot more people looking at her now. She takes her chair from me.
“You can have a bit more space to play with, but try to stay tight. I won’t be able to keep moving my laptop to track you guys.”
“That guy is staring over here,” I say, sucking then blowing out minty air for my personal pleasure. “The one in the baseball cap.”
“Wouldn’t you look at two identically dressed people? Just to work it out in your head? That’s why he’s staring.”
“Yeah but not for-e-ver.” I will myself to stare back.
He drops his gaze. Wow, what power!
I turn to a woman at the next table who’s been taking glances here and there. I wonder if my eyes show that I’m actually doing a smiling sort of stare. She looks away.
“Having fun?” Sausun watches me, eyes crinkled.
“Are you smiling? I think I can tell now.” I smile back. “Hey, I thought of something. What about the music?”
“You mean what about the Edith Piaf playing? I think it would be a great soundtrack for what you’re going to do.” Now she’s definitely smiling. “Very ironic.”