The Question of Identity

A Piece from Collection of Short Stories…………………………

By

Sadaf Fayyaz

Roshanay was always informed by her parents that she was a born Pathan. This is what she used to tell her friends at school too. They frequently used to visit their house at Baffa. When they were kids, they used to enjoy a lot playing in the big lawn of their house. She went to the kitchen to fry kebabs for the tea. Her mother has invited some friends for a hi-tea at home.

“So where are you people exactly from,” asked one of the ladies.

“We are Pathans”, replied her mother cheerfully.

She could not believe this statement but didn’t deny her mother’s statement in front of the guests,

“Who am I”, was a basic question that hit her mind since her childhood. She remembered an old family function where a family lady taunted at her,”You like to stay away from us since you are a resident of Baffa”. This piece of information from the relative lady disturbed her a lot. She was mature enough to know and investigate about her origin and ancestral roots. The question of identity had become more serious and thought provoking for her, as years passed by.

After the sudden and tragic demise of her grandfather, there was no one to look after the 8-kanal village house. They had to dispose of everything belonging to village. Her father belonging to Army and being posted to different cities, could not handle the village disputes, peasants, land rental issues any more.

“So now, we no longer belong to our village and associated with it anymore,’ she thought painfully.

She had a deep discussion with her father one day.

“You great grandfather was from India, got his children educated in cities like Aligarh, Nainital and Dehradun. You maternal grandfather is a graduate of Aligarh University, 1940 batch. Your paternal grandfather used to write “Swati” with his name. His ancestors moved from Swat to Bajaur decades ago, what else you want to know?” asked her father.

“What I want to know is, where I am from and what my identity is,” she asked.

She asked the same question from her mother.

“I write “Lughmani” with my name and my mother belonged to Attock. Her ancestors migrated from Afghanistan long time back and got settled in Peshawar,” replied her mother.

She wasn’t satisfied from all these answers or justifications.

“I have delicate features and slightly wheatish complexion that shows that I am not a Pathan. I have the grudge and values like Pathans. “She looked at her small feet and hands. “Pathan women do not have small feet or hands.” Only speaking and knowing Pashtu doesn’t prove that I am a Pathan, other facts need to be known too.” The identity and definition about her origin she was left with, was. "Before partition, I was an Indian, since my ancestors had roots from there. I used to say that I was from NWFP, now identity is belonging to Pakhtookhwa. I am an Asian Muslim."