Disarray in the Cloak of Religious Adherence

Disarray in the Cloak of Religious Adherence
Text from a Play in the 1970s

Bibliographic Details:
Author: Mohammad Reza Nikoonam (b. 1327)
Title: Disarray in the Cloak of Religious Adherence: A Text from a Play in the 1970s
Publisher: Islamshahr: Sobh-e Farda Publications, 1393 (2014)
Physical Details: 42 pages
ISBN: 978-600-91763-3-5
Cataloging Status: FIPA
Other Title: A Text from a Play in the 1970s
Subject: Persian Drama — 14th Century
Congress Classification: PIR8362 / K9 N16 1393
Dewey Classification: [J] 8فا 62
National Bibliography Number: 3674736

Foreword:

In the chaotic atmosphere of the 40s and 50s, when the ruling government aimed to divert the thoughts and minds of revolutionary youth from political discussions, encouraging them instead to indulge in carnal pleasures, thus enabling the plundering of the people’s wealth and dancing to the tunes of colonial puppet masters, some religious families, at times, passively accepted this state of affairs. They either lacked a nurturing and supervising approach towards their children, or attributed some moral corruption to mystical factors, destiny, and fate.

This writing, a product of the 1960s, written during the author’s adolescence, was intended for some of the mosque youth to bring it to the stage. The aim was to impart essential educational lessons to religious families and correct some of their beliefs, thus reflecting the spirit of writings from that era, which is now being published as a keepsake from that time.

And our final invocation is that praise is due to Allah, Lord of the worlds.

“Anomaly in the Cloak of Religious Adherence”
Character Cast:

• Hokayma Khanum: 45 years old, a devout woman, educated, thoughtful, kind to her family, and responsible.
• Nosrat: Daughter of Hokayma Khanum, a third-year high school student, artistic, passionate about painting, and somewhat sensitive.
• Kobra Khanum: 51 years old, a pious, devout woman, known as Hajj Khanum in the mosque, somewhat ill-tempered, and financially poor.
• Maryam: Daughter of Kobra Khanum, second-year high school student, quick to sulk, with a father who works in the civil service.

Scene from the Play:

Maryam (holding the phone):
Nasser! Nasser! My mother went to the mosque. Come and spend an hour with me. The world isn’t worth it.

Nasser (thinking to himself):
What a clueless and ignorant mother you have! She thinks that simply going to the mosque and constantly engaging in prayer and supplication is what makes one a true Muslim, forgetting the human and Islamic deeds one must perform. Poor thing doesn’t understand that prayer and the mosque are only valuable when they are constructive. Kobra Khanum thinks one reaches God only through prayer, not realizing she’s losing her troubled daughter. Poor woman doesn’t know how things have gone. She doesn’t realize that in this day and age, one can’t leave their children unattended, for soon they will be seeking boyfriends and girlfriends, lost in romance.

Kobra Khanum:
Maryam! Since I’ve gone to the mosque, has anyone come by here?

Maryam:
No, mom! No one has come by.
I was just studying my lessons (then mutters to herself: Only Nasser, the neighbor’s son, was here).

Hokayma Khanum, who took pride in having a daughter like Nosrat and was mindful that her daughter was a divine trust, turned to her and said:
Nosrat! My dear, would you like to come with me to the mosque? After the prayer, Hajj Agha will give a lecture on religious rulings, and we can learn something about our faith together.

Hokayma Khanum:
Nosrat, will you come with me to the mosque?

Nosrat:
Yes, mom, I’ll come. But if I don’t, what’s the harm? You go alone.

Hokayma Khanum:
No, my dear, if you don’t come, I won’t go either. I don’t want to leave you alone while I go to the mosque to pray. Being alone is not good; neither God nor religion approves of loneliness. In fact, religion says that loneliness is harmful. You see, Nosrat, when a person is alone, the Devil has more power over them.

Nosrat:
Mom! What can loneliness do?

Hokayma Khanum:
When a person is alone, outsiders take advantage of the opportunity to covet their goodness. It’s like an unattended item lying in a corner—when someone sees it, they’ll just pick it up without thinking of whose it is, unless they have faith in God.

Nosrat:
Well, then I’ll come with you to the mosque to escape from those outsiders and the loneliness you mentioned. I’ll also learn a few religious matters.

Hokayma Khanum:
My daughter, do you know how much responsibility we have towards our neighbors? The Prophet (PBUH) even thought that one might inherit from their neighbor. One must show kindness to their neighbors and help them as much as they can.

Nosrat:
Mom, has anyone complained about me, or have I disrespected anyone?

Hokayma Khanum:
No, my dear, you are a good girl, and many people envy your character. I’m talking about our neighbor, Kobra Khanum and Maryam. They are caught in their own ignorance, which is why Maryam has become so troubled.

Nosrat:
Mom! I don’t even speak to Maryam because she is a troubled girl. Every time her mother goes to the mosque, Nasser, the neighbor’s son, goes over to their house. But I’ve never even looked at Nasser; you yourself said that this is a bad thing.

Hakeema Khanum: “Oh, how wisely you speak! I really enjoyed your words. Would you kindly elaborate further?”

Hakeema Khanum: “Yes, my daughter. Why don’t you eat fruits? First of all, it is stated in Islam: ‘The mosque of a woman is her home’ — meaning that a woman’s mosque is her home. If a woman can remain inside her house as much as possible, it is better than anything else because God has made each person for a specific purpose. Women are made for the home, and men for the street and the marketplace. As the poet says:

‘Every fruit that leaves the garden,
The passerby desires a taste of it.’

When girls or women leave the house for trivial reasons, outsiders come to see them. This is particularly true when a young woman, like you and me, enters the mosque wearing a thin, white chador and attracts the attention of others with her coquettish glances. Islam deems this forbidden: for a woman, when going to the mosque, to dress like a bride. It is precisely this act that leads to corruption and vice. If a woman or girl cannot leave the house in a manner that hides her presence from men, it would be better for her to stay at home altogether. Why should women be constantly in the streets, alleys, and marketplaces? Isn’t this the very cause of societal corruption?

If we go to the mosque and attend religious gatherings, we should do so in a way that does not provoke others. When girls go to the mosque like brides, they are inviting the devil into their attire, and instead of seeking closeness to God, they are moving towards sin and the devil. Their prayer is no longer a prayer, and the mosque is no longer a mosque — I apologize — it becomes a place of lust and immorality.

Perhaps one reason for these displays is the age of the girls. When a girl matures, her sexual instincts take over like a hungry child searching for food. She becomes entrapped by her desires and leaves her house under the pretext of prayer, but in reality, she is committing a sin. Everything she encounters becomes lustful in her eyes, and she defiles prayer, the mosque, and religious gatherings with her desires. These corrupted young men and women, who have filled the streets, did not come from the sky; they come from among us. If misfortune came from the sky, it would have been preferable.

Nasrat: “Mom! Do you mean that when a girl grows up and becomes like a hungry animal — not like a child deprived of milk — searching for food, what is she supposed to do? Are you saying that hunger doesn’t exist? If someone tells you, ‘I’m hungry,’ what would you do? What should one do in these times?”

Mariam: “Yes, Nasrat is right: when a person is hungry, they look for food, or when a child is hungry, they cry. So what should those who are driven by lust do? This hunger is even greater than others, to the point that it blinds and deafens a person. At that point, they no longer care about their faith or their dignity.”

Hakeema Khanum: “The truth is, I am against the way people live nowadays because none of this aligns with the laws of Islam. Islam states that a young man and woman should marry as soon as they reach maturity. Imam Sadiq (peace be upon him) has a very wise saying: ‘Blessed is the father whose daughter experiences womanhood in her husband’s home, rather than living twenty or thirty years only to become like her mother, wandering around, tainted, and eventually remembering marriage.’

Kobra Khanum: “I agree. A girl should marry as soon as possible to avoid falling into sin.”

Mariam and Nasrat: “We also agree. A girl should marry quickly to avoid sin and infidelity. If she marries early, she won’t learn the ways of infidelity. But if she learns it, repentance becomes impossible.”

Hakeema Khanum: “But I disagree with all of you because your words do not align with your actions. A young man, up to the age of twenty or twenty-five, does not dare seek a woman for marriage. He knows that she will say, ‘I want to study and become educated.’

This education is worthless; this life is worthless! The true education should be religious knowledge, as it teaches purity and chastity. Education only has value if it leads us to happiness, not if it contributes to societal corruption, as is the case now.

What do these tainted young men and women do, who wait until thirty to marry? Haven’t you agreed that hunger cannot be denied? So, when these individuals need to satisfy their sexual instincts, what do they do? Isn’t it sin? Aren’t these educated young women, wearing revealing clothes, now roaming the streets, in the hands of strangers? Is this not the story of the cat and the butcher’s fat? Is this not the worship of mice? What else could it be? Why should we fall prey to the West? Why should we succumb to desires? Just because a girl doesn’t have a diploma or a degree, does that mean she is worthless? Is it because no one notices her? Is it acceptable for a girl to become like her mother, worn out, neglected, until even the wild animals no longer desire her, and then, at this point, she is offered to suitors — unaware that this marriage is doomed to failure? Isn’t that how things unfold? Isn’t it obvious that we have disregarded the laws of Islam, and this is a sin?”

In the life I lead, guided by Islamic principles and within a religious family, I am aware of the impact this has on my appearance, my health, and my well-being. My body is vibrant, fragrant, and well-maintained, reflecting my dedication to a balanced and healthy lifestyle. I take care not to wander aimlessly in the streets and alleys. If I ever do, I make sure no one dares to disrespect me. The way I dress and the weight of my actions would make even the most immoral person feel ashamed to wrong me. I do not visit cafes or bars where people might fall into the trap of addiction to drugs or alcohol, as my faith forbids such indulgence, deeming them as sources of misguidance. Today, as it is Friday, my religion prescribes cleanliness, and I have performed the Friday ablution, standing before you with a fragrant and refreshed body. Now, tell me, is your life better than mine?

Although I could see that Gita felt regret, she was still determined to continue the conversation. Gita said: “I feel sorry for your life because when you, a young and beautiful girl, get married, your time of freedom ends. You become caught up in the hardships of life and have to spend your years with a man in a household. But that’s not the case with us. We enjoy our lives, living in the moment, being with whoever we wish, and making the most of the two short days of life.”

I noticed that Gita no longer had the same spark, and her tone seemed to lack conviction. Yet, she still wanted to discuss things with me. With a gentle tone, I replied, “Gita, my dear, you are still ensnared by short-lived pleasures, unaware of the purity and the future consequences of your choices. When we marry the man we love and create a shared life together, we find a space filled with affection and warmth. Even if we face challenges, we still find joy in the companionship. But you, because you are chasing fleeting pleasure and not building a home of love and chastity for yourself, find yourself constantly seeking another person. We, on the other hand, build a life based on faith, raising children who strive for personal growth and the development of their community, rather than seeking indulgence and wandering.”

I continued: “Gita, if only you knew the joy of holding your own child in your arms, watching them grow up and walk beside you. Gita, if only you knew the joy my mother feels when she sees me, her gaze filled with such love that I can feel she wants to hold and kiss me forever.”

“Gita, our lives are full of love and tranquility, but yours is filled with anxiety and sorrow. You neither experience the embrace of love nor the joy of family. You are lost, and in your confusion, you mislead others. What is the benefit of your way of life for the community and the world today? Do you think your life is better than ours? Does your mother find joy in your life? Does she long to hold you in her arms? Has she raised a child who contributes positively to society? Gita, tell me, how does your mother treat you?”

At this point, I saw Gita break down. Tears streamed down her face, and with a voice quivering with emotion, she said, “Fatima, please, don’t make me feel worse about myself. Don’t ask about my situation. My mother is not like yours. I don’t even have a home like yours. My mother is even more lost than I am. She too is seeking pleasure, and I’ve never felt the warmth of maternal love. I’ve accepted this life, but I can no longer continue like this. I’m tired of this life.”

She continued, “Fatima, please promise me you’ll be like a kind sister to me, guiding me towards the right path. Take me to your religious gatherings. I’m tired of this life. I want peace, I want purity. I want to be at peace with myself and with God.”

Then I noticed that Gita seemed to be praying and reciting the shahada (the Islamic declaration of faith), whispering her sincere repentance to God. She said, “God, forgive me. I wasn’t a good servant to You. Thank you for bringing Fatima into my life tonight. I am repenting for my past sins. I want to encourage everyone to turn away from this meaningless world and return to God, following the guidance of the Imams.”

Gita then looked at me and said, “I wish the pure and Muslim women who attend religious gatherings would appreciate their worth, stop wasting their lives, and follow the teachings they learn. I hope they would stop lying, gossiping, and speaking ill of others, and avoid polluting their actions with sin. God, forgive me, and forgive me for my past mistakes.”

As Gita spoke with increasing fervour, I too was overcome with emotion, praising her for her sincerity and purity. But suddenly, I noticed her voice had ceased. I placed my head on her chest, only to find that it was as if she had passed away. Gita was gone, leaving a deep sorrow in her wake. I still hear her mournful voice echoing in my mind. Alas, Gita is no longer with us, and I will never be able to be her sister in this life. From that day on, I visit Behesht Zahra (the cemetery) to sit by her grave and speak to her in my heart.