Unique Muslimah

…I’ll have ya for lunch. Capeesh?

I walked through the park, closing my eyes and smelling in the deep-pollen-infested air. The sun hung high up, beaming brightly at me, sending its warmth to my face. I could hear the bird songs I craved to listen to chirping away, rustling through the revived leaves that had been in hibernation for the winter. Everything bloomed as I took my camera out.

Female passers-by holding cameras of the same model would look at me with a deep, soulful search in their eyes, while nodding with respect as I walked through the park, taking photographs of this and that. At first I thought it was my imagination, until the 10th person looked at my camera and I, smiled and nodded. I would nod back and a secret smile would form on my face. I would smile because of the silent club I was a part of, where each photographer would look on at his/her fellow photographer and think: “You know how it’s like in my world…Your appreciation to capture the creation is like mine…We are alike, you and I”.

Or maybe it was the total opposite. Maybe they were looking at me in surprise, wondering what a Muslim woman wearing a jilbab and hijab was doing with a delicate machine, wondering if I knew how to use it, secretly wishing they could view my photographs afterwards somehow, wondering if I was a competent photographer or a rich-spoilt girl from the Gulf who was showing off her prized possession. Alas, maybe some who looked on were even suspicious of me, wondering if I was spying on them, wondering if I was going to hurt them. They couldn’t see that my camera was a rose, not a sword. I came in peace.

If I did happen to see a cast of doubt on a fellow photographer as she looked on at me and my machine, I would smile and nod, hoping she could read my mind as I thought out the words: “You know how it’s like in my world…Your appreciation to capture the creation is like mine…We are alike, you and I”.