I have a very special friend today, Pavarti Tyler on my blog. She is fun, thoughtful and very talented when it comes to books. Have you heard of her latest book, Shadow On The Wall? Quite an unusual story bordering on controversy. But well, isn't it time to remove the red-tinted glasses and try another view?
Pavarti is here today with a small experience of her own. Please join me welcoming her to my blog!
Hijab is the headscarf some Muslim women wear. There is great debate over the need, use and appropriateness of the hijab, which has fueled cultural debate and conflict. In Islam there is a cultural practice of covering a woman’s hair and neck, this is considered modest dress and the roots of the practice are based in the Qu’ran. There are multiple surahs (verses) and hadiths (oral histories) which are used to explain the need for men and women to dress modestly.
The specifics of what needs to be covered is controversial. Some say only the hair must be covered, others say everything but the eyes and hands should be. From Burquas in Afghanistan to hijabs in France, it seems everyone has an opinion.
In 2001, right after 9/11, I participated in an event called “Sisters for Solidarity.” The sponsoring group was an interfaith movement for social awareness. Over 200,000 women in the US donned hijab for Eid Al-Fitra celebration that marks the end of the fasting month of Ramadan.
Somewhere in the depths of my basement there is a picture of me with a beautiful red-and-gold scarf covering my hair and neck. For three days in November, 2011, I went to work, the grocery store, church and everywhere else with my hair covered.
I could discuss the political reasons for doing this, or my own religion beliefs, but what I learned during those three days has nothing to do with either. I donned a headscarf for very personal reasons, which I believed deeply and still hold dear. And every moment I wore it, I felt stronger in my convictions. Something about a physical declaration of my beliefs was empowering and liberating.
I also felt a part of something. Other women in hijab would stop, smile and speak with me no matter where we were. It was a kind of sisterhood I haven’t experienced in other parts of my life. Even when they found out I wasn’t Muslim, the kind response I received for what I was doing was deeply touching.
Simultaneously, I found the covering very oppressive. It was hot under there, and kept slipping. This was probably mostly due to my inexperience, but I found it physically cumbersome and something that needed constant monitoring. I was also very surprised to find that a number of co-workers with whom I had been close to did not speak with me during the days I was wearing hijab. I received sideways glances on the bus and subway, not the usual smiles and commuter camaraderie I was accustomed to.
There are three female characters in my novel, Shadow on the Wall. Each has an opinion of and relationship with wearing the hijab. I pulled on my short experience to inform how I wrote these characters. Rebekah, Darya and Maryam - each of them represents a different archetype of Middle Eastern women. While it's certainly not an exhaustive representation, the issues of gender and the veil are explored in depth through the course of the story.
What I learned during the Sisters for Solidarity movement - and what I hope Shadow on the Wall conveys - is that covering is a deeply personal experience. Ideally each woman would be able to decide for herself without the pressures of politics, family or cultural assumptions. Unfortunately, we don’t live in that world, which is what makes the discussion so volatile.
I’m curious as I move into publishing Shadow on the Wall how readers will feel about these women. Which will they respond to? With which will they identify?
Pavarti K Tyler is an artist, wife, mother and number cruncher. She graduated Smith College in 1999 with a degree in Theatre. After graduation, she moved to New York, where she worked as a Dramaturge, Assistant Director and Production Manager on productions both on and off Broadway.
Later, Pavarti went to work in the finance industry as a freelance accountant for several international law firms. She now operates her own accounting firm in the Washington DC area, where she lives with her husband, two daughters and two terrible dogs. When not preparing taxes, she is busy working at Novel Publicity and penning her next novel.
My blog is all ages: http://www.fightingmonkeypress.com
My tumblr is 18+ only: http://pavartidevi.tumblr.com/
My Fan Page needs your likes: https://www.facebook.com/#!/FMPress
My Twitter likes friends: http://twitter.com/#!/PavartiKTyler
My Google+ is random: https://plus.google.com/?gpinv=JFSVnKSj7Uk:FdjR-3NCJW8#me/posts
EXCERPT FROM SHADOW OF THE WALL:
Recai walked for what seemed like miles, resisting the instinct to second-guess his direction. The sand moved between his toes but soon he found his footing, and his body responded to the landscape as if from some genetic memory. He remembered his father’s words from a trip he took to the Oman desert as a child: Never take your shoes off; the sand will eat away at your feet. Recai had done it anyway, then and now, feeling more in control with that connection to the ground, its movements speaking to his flesh directly.
His father had always been full of surprises: one moment the strict disciplinarian, the next, he would wake Recai in the middle of the night to see a falling star. Recai had never had the chance to get to know him as an adult. Instead, he lived with the enigmatic memory of a great man lost.
Recai stood in the middle of the desert—every direction would eventually lead to Elih or one of the smaller villages scattered around the city. But who would take in a stranger? A stranger with a Hugo Boss turban and a bruised and bloodied face? In’shallah, he would be delivered to safety.