By Rehmatullah Sheikh
I was chilling with a couple of friends when the Maghrib (break of dusk) Azan went off. My friend nonchalantly comments – “I hate this Azan, it’s very disturbing.” This friend would mean no harm to me or my personal preferences, and the fact that he assumed the liberty to voice this with honesty demonstrated that our friendship wasn’t hostage to a seemingly sensitive commentary. But it was an inflection point in my understanding of how non-Muslims in India perceived Islamic rituals. If anything, I was convinced that like most things associated with faith, it’s a mixed bag…a spectrum because just a year later I would hear Priyanka Chopra say that listening to the Azan in Bhopal from 6 different mosques brings about a tranquil feeling. (Just to put that in perspective, her idea of music is jamming with Pitbull)
Sonu Nigam too fits into this spectrum, except that his edgy comments and insensitive choice of words look to tip the balance. If there’s anything we learn from the episode, it’s that the topic of Azan, beyond legislations and court rulings, was the restive elephant in the corner. And now that it’s disturbed, let’s acknowledge and dive right in.
Azan is not a freaking alarm bell that your smartphone bought from a sale on Flipkart can replace. It can supplement, certainly yes. There is a spiritual element to Azan that, if people cared to ask their practicing Muslim friends, would know more about. Some moving stories in Islamic history revolve around the call to prayer, including the most famous heritage of anti-racism that Muslims internalize till date. The first man to utter the Azan, Bilal, was a black slave who was disposable property before the advent of Islam in Makkah. I could go on and on, but in short, it’s an intimate part of the religion and every practicing Muslim has a special connection with it. It’s called out 5 times a day, yes, even at times when you’re in REM sleep.
Is it possible that people can get pissed off with it? Absolutely yes. Depending on one’s frame of mind, reference points of Azan (maybe it disturbed an important phone call, woke you up from sleep), perception of Islam, interaction with Muslims and understanding of Islam and its theology and core philosophies (not just laws and edicts), one could dismiss the Azan as a mere irritant that one can do without it. Let me take this further by saying that ‘Muslims’ who have remained disconnected from practise, are on the brink of exiting the religion or those who have left it altogether would also find little value and more noise in Azan. I don’t have a problem with people calling it an irritant as much as I am appalled with Sonu Nigam calling it ‘religious hooliganism’.
Using this term is not just exaggeration, it underplays ‘real hooliganism’ and misdirects a naive mind. If you really think Azan is hooliganism, then you’ve never heard stories of the “religious police” that is tasked with ‘controlling vice and promoting virtue’ in a certain ‘Muslim’ country. In one of the more infamous episodes, one religious police started bashing a UK national because he wouldn’t believe that the woman he accompanied at the supermarket was his wife. THAT’s hooliganism. Sonu Nigam hasn’t seen saffron-clad mobs lynching people for transporting cows. THAT’s hooliganism. By calling Azan hooliganism, he’s contributing towards the sedation of society who will be conditioned to see few faults in genuine outrageous behavior, but life-endangering elements in a human voice that are amplified through a loudspeaker. (If you feel I’m a bit OTT, remind yourself that we’re talking about India.)
“Mohammed did not have electricity”
Sonu Nigam also goes on to point out that Mohammed, his pal that he hung around with and knows very well, did not use electricity to project the voice. It’s funny he says this because this sounds eerily similar to a group of violent, puritanical evangelists from Saudi Arabia (circa- 1979) who perceived new technology like television, airwaves and modern sound system as a perversion to faith and resisted its adoption in the Kingdom. Come to think of it, and with the casual allegations that go around for Muslims as an indication, I’m certain that if Muslims had not deployed loudspeakers for the purpose of Azan, the religion would have been dissed as uncreative, backward and technology-averse.
Also, when ‘Mohammed did not have electricity’, muezzins would actually stand on the minarets and spread themselves out in prime locations to make the call for prayer to ensure that as many people were reached. I’m guessing Sonu Ji would enjoy a stranger standing outside his door chanting something in Arabic. It would be creepy first, disturbing second. (I digress)
The camp of progressives, secularists, humanists, rationalists or whatever -ists who have joined his bandwagon are being their usual selves – all public representation of religion is questionable, everything of it has no value to add and it should be done away with, even if their wave is against an overwhelming tide. People ask why shouldn’t Muslims in India just drop the beat on the Azan? Well, because Muslims and the predominant Hindus of India entered into a social contract that allowed and empowered them to practice as they please, without peppering their belief system with new-age humanistic dogmas.
In India, the Azan of the muezzin is supposed to seamlessly immerse with the chanting of the priests. It’s what makes India different, at least so far. For a long time, communal (as in ‘community’) noises fused into India’s soul and landscape, and each person made it his or her own part of life, whether or not they participated in the theology or rituals.
Muslims in India did have an option to put possibilities like a threat to the loudspeaker and dietary choices to rest. It was in 1947 when Pakistan promised a ‘pure’ Islamic escape where no one would question their beard, beef or their Azan. Millions of Muslims chose otherwise, and it’s time we remember and honour the social contract that Muslims AND other religions of India adhered to.
Indian society is changing, and at least on social media, it’s led by a bold group of youngsters for whom rebellion is in vogue. Everything can be questioned, religion has no value. Except, it does to the OTHER group of people who don’t take to Facebook or Twitter to provide an update on their sleep schedule. This is the other group that looks forward to the next Azan; to partake in a moment of historical significance that plays out in the present.
I want to add one more thing: Most Muslim, and I’d add even Non-Muslim millennials who have spent a considerable time in a Middle East country maybe scratching their head in disbelief as to why their friends in India would find the Azan irritating. Having spent 3 years in India, I understand why. Most muezzins in India, I’ve noticed, don’t have the most melodious voices. Not all have necessarily received the right training in intonation and delivery of the Arabic language. I’ve heard numerous shrill voices — it does the job of filling the air with a call to prayer but it isn’t necessarily great branding. To all those who think that what they hear in India is the ISO mark of Azan, I urge you to get on YouTube and listen to some from the lands of Arabia. I’ve linked a couple of my favorites below. Maybe, just MAYBE you’ll realize why it is a source of spiritual calm and beauty for many Muslims and even Non-Muslims; and why your ringtone would never replace it.
Lastly, this is a never-ending discussion so I advise that people keep the dialogue flowing instead of hate. We’re wiser if we learn from each other and only more miserable when we become aggressive and demean each other. Why waste this opportunity today. Kya pata, Kal Ho Na Ho.
This note was originally published on the Author’s Facebook Wall and can be seen here