The other day I was making fun of the desi girls I once knew: the way they wear sandals in the middle of winter, all wrapped up in pashmina shawls and Bareezé outfits but with shiny-toenailed feet held near the heaters for warmth. The way they’re always dressed in fine clothes with gold bangles gently clashing over a late lunch. The way they fold away their summer wardrobes and shake out their winter ones, each one tailor-made to skim their figures to perfection.
As I laughed at their impracticality, I found exactly three sets of shoes in my closet suited to the hills and cool weather of San Francisco: a pair each of heeled and flat boots, and suede sneakers. Every other pair peeked out in unworn perfection with delicate sandal straps or frivolous high heels.
I looked at my clothes: some suited to my casual life spent mostly at home, but enough delicate materials, sequins, feathers, and embroidered outfits to imply that I spent my life flitting from one tropical social season to the next.
That’s when I realized, stunned, that there’s a desi girl who lives in my closet.
She thinks that my life should be one full of teas and dinners, weddings and social whirls. She slyly buys the silver sandals and sequined shirts that I love to look at but will never wear, and the suede designer handbags that stay wrapped in their cloth dust covers for wont of an occasion in casual California.
She doesn’t realize that I’ve locked my jewelry away at the bank and irritably pay zakat on gold sets unworn since my wedding over five years ago. She doesn’t realize that I chose to walk away, that I’m happy with the simpler life I lead.
That girl dreams of grand entrances and stylish, witty company. She wants to run hands lustfully over fine fabrics and tailored clothes, and to snap open boxes full of ancestral jewels that will glitter under bright lights around her neck. She runs amok with my credit card when I’m not looking, trying to recreate the begumhood I left behind.
Sometimes, I surprise myself with the habits and longings that I can no longer afford. No matter how I sweep them out, they find corners in which to linger.
That desi girl in my closet…she lives inside of me.
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January 13, 2008 at 1:21 am
Achelois
I can so understand that girl.
I spend most of my day in loose long robes that I take off when I go out andput on again when I return. That is my life. I want to dress up and look good and feel good but am so tired … I am so tired.
My love to that girl. I love her the way she is
January 13, 2008 at 6:40 am
Maliha
Salamaat,
I just went through a whole major pre-spring cleaning of our closets…and was shocked at the many outfits that have found their way into my hands. Was even more surprised at my perception that I had “nothing” to wear, yet how many bags found their way out. I feel so much lighter and freer now….
January 13, 2008 at 6:56 am
sharanya
Lovely post!
January 13, 2008 at 2:45 pm
a.
perfectly said Baraka!
I have been feeling guilty & moaning to my sister that my aspirational shopping is really going to all-time extremes now… and I hate the begumat wali gatherings, but I really enjoy having any chance to wear my gorgeous outfits (complete w. all accessories) and feel special. I’ve always been feminine, but the begum gene perplexes me b/c I have no idea where it has come from, and why exactly I nurture it so much. What’s worse is, my begum gene is mounting an attack on my devil-may-care gene and is in the process of seriously upgrading (at significant expense) my casual & western wear wardrobe too.
And I just wonder…how will God forgive me my excesses? In a second, when anything earth-shattering happens, all this fluff turns to ashes in my eyes: so unnecessary, so devoid of any importance at all … and yet, when I’m buying it, it’s the most delightful & unmissable stuff possible.
January 13, 2008 at 11:47 pm
Muse
I hear that. Especially paying zakat on that jewelry that I barely wear. Part of my mom’s chagrin about my hijab is that all that wedding jewelry is going to waste. Hell, that’s part of my chagrin about wearing hijab, who am I kidding
Still, I’ll never deny that inner girly girl, because she’s so fun. I just hope all the sequins, high-heels etc etc don’t turn into the end-all-be-all.
January 13, 2008 at 11:53 pm
UmmFarouq
If I could go back and choose my heritage, I just might have been a Purelander.
I wanted all the gold bangles, the amazingly tailored and embroidered shalwar kameez, and the RED WEDDING DRESS. Those dresses are so feminine and I always cry when I see a Desi bride. I also have a great affinity for that creamy noodle pudding served at Eid. I could have fit in!
Seriously, I think we all have “that girl” from some other distant (yet around the corner) reality living inside of us. Lovely post.
January 14, 2008 at 8:48 am
Willow
Lord, my ‘that girl’ is so white. I dream of Anthropologie skirts, furniture from Crate and Barrel and Lancome perfume. (And that burn-your-eyes first world level of chemical-y household cleanliness, which, now that I’m back, I ruthlessly enforce.) I don’t think I’ve worn my shabka jewelry since my wedding.
January 15, 2008 at 12:51 pm
Baraka
Salaams all:
Achelois: Uff, I hear you on being too tired to crawl out of one’s pjs!
Sometimes Basil comes home and I haven’t moved from the sofa or even brushed my hair. Then I really wish that “that girl” with her mad obsession about waxed limbs and freshly-ironed clothes would come out of the closet and magically wave her turmeric-scented hands and make everything beautiful.
Maliha: I love “spring” cleaning at any time of year too! You’re right, one feels so much lighter and freer once those unused bags go out the door. I do a thorough cleaning of my closet every two years. If I haven’t worn it in that time, I give it away.
Though that doesn’t necessarily extend to my dressy Paki clothes…
Sharanya: Thanks!
a.: As always, you’ve hit my emotional nail on the head: “And I just wonder…how will God forgive me my excesses? In a second, when anything earth-shattering happens, all this fluff turns to ashes in my eyes: so unnecessary, so devoid of any importance at all … and yet, when I’m buying it, it’s the most delightful & unmissable stuff possible.”
Trying to find that balance between extravagance, which seems almost inbred to Punjabis, and unhappy leftist frugality is difficult for me.
And spiritually, I know that all those material goods benefit me not one whit. I am grateful for the comforts I have, but also aware that I am even more answerable for giving back and a level of generosity that I often fail to achieve.
Muse: Ameen to it not being an end-all-be-all!
Umm Farouq: “. I also have a great affinity for that creamy noodle pudding served at Eid.”
Lol – LOVE it!
Willow: It’s so funny that we each harbor a “that girl” who has little to do with our daily lives but perhaps much to do with what we were taught to expect or covet and thus find comfortable and natural on some primary level.
And, speaking of “first world level of chemical-y household cleanliness” makes me remember that even some hospitals in Pakistan have that sticky dustiness that seems to envelope the entire country.
Remembering that makes me recoil and feel nostalgic at the same time. Kind of like how I feel about “that girl” too.
Thanks for all your lovely comments!
Warmly,
Baraka
January 15, 2008 at 2:44 pm
a.
Baraka – in your response to Willow I think you’ve pinpointed the source – I agree that it’s all about ingrained expectations shaping what we think of as ‘coming of age’. Also perhaps a deep-seated appreciation for lavishness & beauty & style that even our own role-models kept in check in their daily lives but managed to pass on to us just the same.
January 15, 2008 at 8:38 pm
Basil
Evict that impractical diva! Begone, chappals!!!
January 17, 2008 at 1:06 pm
Baraka
Salaam all:
a: It might be a little easier if my original role models had kept it in check – even now Amiji complains about my being more of a boy than a girl!
Basiljaan, you crack me up.
Warmly,
Baraka