Within the parameters of an upper-caste family, it is expected to maintain the dignity of “Shareef gharana.” There are certain rules, which its family members are supposed to follow; girls are considered primary carriers of honour. Being born in an upper caste family, I am not privileged.
Lowered-caste people indeed struggle to get privileges, such as education, healthcare services, and freedom of expression, while upper-caste individuals enjoy them the most. However, there is a gap maintained within the upper-caste domain based on gender wherein women face a prolonged struggle to challenge the Shareef Gharana setup.
In the area where I grew up, it is considered important to control women’s desires. There is such a prevalence of the biradari system that its dominance does not allow women to have significant space or hold their agency.
Shareef gharana or respected family or blueblood lineage, the former refers to an Urdu term that is used to preserve the prevalence of the caste system. Since childhood, I have been accustomed to hearing this word a lot. There are specific expectations for me to uphold its pride, including not being expressive enough about my likes and dislikes. In the firm biradari system, girls are supposed to lose their individuality and be dependent on male members. Although I am receiving higher education, home-bound is prioritised. As the Shareef Gharana is patriarchal, home-bound education relies on household management, raising ideal children and complete submission to the husband.
I love to explore the world for accurate observations but it is much more difficult to roam freely because I hail from a shareef gharana. Despite the obstacles to achieving my dreams, I remain reluctant to compromise on them. Being a feminist and uncompromising makes me strong and helps me understand societal norms originating from the family system. Even though the caste system is practised among Muslims in the name of the biradari system, people do not want to acknowledge its consequences. It is understood as maintaining one’s social status and dignity.
In the area where I grew up, it is considered important to control women’s desires. There is such a prevalence of the biradari system that its dominance does not allow women to have significant space or hold their agency. Girls are trained to adhere to rigid norms; otherwise, they are shamed. Women’s opinions are deemed worthless. Though I am not bold enough to deal with all the challenges this rigid system brings, I do not easily surrender to decisions that are made against my aspirations.
I went outside my hometown after the 12th standard to pursue a B.A. (Hons.) from the Aligarh Muslim University to pose a challenge to the biradari system. Despite lacking opportunities to articulate my views, I consistently maintain a sense of curiosity and expressiveness. When I am involved in the decision-making process, I experience feelings of isolation and marginalisation. It is evident that I possess feminist ideologies; nonetheless, the actual realisation of feminism remains unfulfilled.
It is worth noticing that the definition of feminism is always misunderstood in the Shareef Gharana. It is viewed as brainwashing women to misbehave with their family members. Being a feminist, I feel it is necessary to take a stance to dictate to others that women’s rights are human rights. According to me, male dominance must be put down.
In the Shareef Gharana, male dominance is seen as a natural phenomenon. It is taught not to hurt the male ego as it is prioritised. Women are seen as daughters, mothers and wives whose responsibility is to support male members. They are taught to embrace married life over education. Surprisingly, it is worthwhile to note that education is considered useless for women. It is a general saying I hear “tumhe kitchen mai PhD karna chahiye” (you should do a PhD in Kitchen). If I resist this, I am called a feminist. So, in the patriarchal setup, the word is accepted as brainwashing women to go against the family system whose foundation is built on the patriarchal-caste system.
It is rather difficult to be a feminist at home than in educational institutions due to its variations in acceptance.
To be more precise, I am qualified enough to make a distinction between right and wrong. First up, I had no awareness of the essence of feminism, then, after getting admission to the University of Delhi, I started developing consciousness about it. In this phase, I was curious to get to know about the marginalisation of Muslim women at its core. I realised that as far as my social status is concerned, I am on the margins and have minimum autonomy.
I indeed chose Aligarh Muslim University to pursue Bachelor’s studies but I had no other options. My mindset was shaped and limited to this university; I did not get exposure to others. Although my parents’ perspectives, especially that of my mother about not permitting girls to stay outside the home, in a new city, no longer remained static. The change came over time, and it was my feminist achievement that happened because of my enrollment at the university.
It is rather difficult to be a feminist at home than in educational institutions due to its variations in acceptance. Even though university campuses are not as progressive as they should be, I have gained significant space to read about intersectional feminism and understand it. I have gradually developed an understanding of the marginalisation of Muslim women through first-hand experience.
As a feminist, now I am passionate about helping my family members learn about the plight of Muslim women.
About the author(s)
As a student of history at the University of Delhi, Nashra Rehman is always elated to share
her understanding of Gender History and an interlink between past and present. She is highly
passionate to inculcate in awakening minds pertaining to “How and Why women are
marginalised” through her publications.
