MY beard is probably the first thing people notice about me: “A 24-year-old youth growing a beard? Whatever's wrong with him?” I'm so used to this that I can read it in people's faces. The reaction is usually one of these three: love and respect, inquisitiveness, or hate. Most people show respect and couple it with a lot of inquisitiveness. Some are just stunned and cannot believe what they see. I started growing my beard five years back in India, about two years after 9/11 and a time when the world looked at bearded Muslims with suspicion. I stopped shaving and as the hair grew longer and it became evident that something was up, one of my relatives asked me, “What are you doing? If you go out you would be recognized as a Muslim!” I replied, slowly, “Well, that's why I'm growing it.” I wanted people to know that I was a Muslim. I knew Islam, was inspired by it, was studying it and was trying to practice it. I wanted to show the world that a small group of terrorists do not represent Islam or Muslims. I believed the solution was not in hiding. The solution was not in giving up something that was my soul, my strength and something that I believed in so strongly. Had I done that, I would have lost more dearly than Islam, which by contrast wouldn't have lost a bit. I could not desert something that would always stand by me in my moments of weaknesses. I believed I had to stand by this faith and make a difference by presenting its true image. I don't claim to be the best in representing it, far from best, I can't even claim to be fair enough; but I tried and am still trying. No matter how weak my attempts, I found them and still find them to be really successful. Many people who had first met me with a preconceived notion and an aversion, have changed their perception. They have eventually became good friends. All that was required to bring about that change, after the mercy of God, was kind words with healthy discussions. They were exposed to the ‘terrorist' religion as one of being, in reality, peaceful. They were exposed to a ‘terrorist' who, like them, liked playing basketball and swimming in weekends with friends. (I recall one of my Islamic teachers telling me that the majority of people have golden hearts; it's just that sometimes these hearts are covered with dust. You just need to clear it to find a shining golden heart.) Not everything was similar; I had changed, quite a bit. Earlier it was basketball all day and all night. Earlier it was movies and music all the time. Earlier it was hanging out in coffee pubs and getting new phone numbers. Earlier it was all enjoyment and nothing productive. Now, it is learning and development in the day and basketball in the evenings. Now, everything has its time and place. Life dramatically changed: I excelled in college and excelled at work. The change was anything but good for me. I retained things that were good and left things that pulled me down. Not that I have amassed all good in me and discarded all bad in me. I, as previously stated, can't claim to be fair enough. But I am trying and will keep trying, Insha'Allah. __
