Editor’s Note: This short story has been brought back for your enjoyment as it is one of the editorial staff’s favorite short stories.

By Ayesha Nasir

This is a fictional story which revolves around Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “Ozymandias” poem.

“Hey, Perce? Care to pass me that newspaper?” Bill asked, his eyes glued to the plethora of essays he was reading, yet very much aware of his surroundings.

Percy Bysshe Shelley looked up from his bowl of chopped carrots and soup. His eyes skimmed across the polished marble table.

“Of course,” he replied, reaching out for the freshly-printed wad of huge, white sheets. Some of the black ink smeared onto his fingers as he deliberated which movement of his arm would cause the newspaper to land directly in Bill’s lap.

Bill wasn’t amused. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Hang on a moment,” Percy muttered. He had spotted something on the front page; something that made his hands tremble and his heart skip a beat.

“What is it?” Bill asked, showing some signs of curiosity.

“This,” replied Percy, pointing at the newspaper and grinning like a man who had just unearthed the world’s greatest treasure. He flung the newspaper onto the marble-topped counter, allowing Bill to read the headlines which claimed:

EGYPTIAN STATUE RECOVERED FROM RUINS

Percy was somewhere far away.

“The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed”

*

In the afterglow of a now vanished sun, a figure quietly stood up from her crouching position by the River Nile. She was draped in a dark cloak which almost caused her to dissolve into the landscape. In her hands she carried a bundle, carefully wrapped, close to her chest. You could tell by her contorted face and fitful gasps that there was a struggle going on between her heart and soul.

Just like the mother of Prophet Musa (peace be upon him), she turned to the sun that dipped into the western horizon and murmured a prayer to her Lord.

“Keep this child alive,” she gasped, unable to ask for anything more.

Gently unclasping the bundle, she placed it near the riverbank. When morning arrived she knew someone was bound to find her son. She hoped, dearly, that the ruling Pharaoh would never know of his existence, would never lay a finger on him.

*

Percy struggled at first. What he had heard of the ruins was enough to excite him but he could not explain? the strange attraction he felt towards Egypt.

“You’re not even an Arab, for heaven’s sake,” he scolded himself. He had read columns written from the Eastern world where people had begun claiming that the statue was of “the mightiest and most cruel” Egyptian ruler; someone rather familiar to the Pharaoh who prosecuted Moses.

A “kafir”, they called him.

Percy hesitated then scribbled down the information that was pouring in from all corners of the world.

“Disbeliever,” he translated.

*

The mother was right. Only a quarter hour into daybreak and the baby was taken in by the Royal Guards. These were men who reported directly to the Pharaoh. They were everywhere and they knew everything.

At first they thought the bundle to be forgotten clothes left behind by a bedouin. Only upon opening it did they realize tthat hey had stumbled upon human flesh–very much alive and hungry.

The Royal Guards were perplexed. Never had they been trained for anything like this. In their confusion, they carried the baby to the Pharaoh.

As fate would have it, the Pharaoh had recently lost all his sons to a war he had waged with a tribe far from home. He had won the battle but lost his sons.

Seeing the baby boy was a balm to all his worries for the fate of the empire. In a rare display of kindness, as selfish as it might be, he openly declared himself to be the father of the boy. His most recent wife, Sarone, gasped in shock yet she was forced to come to terms with this twist of fate.

The child was treated like a prince, for almost all believed him to be one. The Pharaoh noted with satisfaction all the telltale signs of royalty in the child: arrogance, disrespect for people lower than him in the social hierarchy, extravagance, and the almost obsessive inclination towards power.

“He will be the perfect ruler,” he murmured to his wife as they stod on the highest sand dune, watching the boy gallop on a velvety horse and disappear into the shadows of a sunlit horizon.

*

“Two legs of stone,” grumbled Percy.

“I beg your pardon?” exclaimed the elegantly dressed woman on his right. Her eyes darted to her legs which were primly and daintily clad in the best linen imported only recently from India.

“My apologies, that wasn’t meant for you,” said Percy, suddenly becoming conscious of his surroundings. He noticed the splendidly dressed people twirling around him, the haunting music, the blinding lights and the food. He took in the woman standing by him. Her cheeks were full, rosy, and carefully dabbed with a dash of rogue; there was a glimmer in her left eye, a mole near her perfectly shaped nose.

To his surprise the face turned into another face that had been haunting him, day in and day out. There was that look, the look of knowing you have everything you ever wanted, everything… perhaps even immortality.

“Half sunk, a shattered visage lies”

*

Ozymandias.

His name sounded so good, so royal, and so… expensive, even to his own ears. He chortled under the silk covers.

Wait. Who was it that dared speak his name in so careless a fashion? Who was it that slurred on the exquisite syllables, making them sound so ordinary? He jerked off the covers.

There before him stood his father. Ozymandias blinked. This can’t be. The man has been dead for months. Mummified since what, seven days?

“Ozymandias,” the Pharaoh said.

A ghost. It’s a ghost. A hallucination for all I know. It must be the drink I had brought in all the way from the nectarines near the Mongolian orchards. Never again, Ozymandias reminded himself. His father broke into his thoughts.

“You do realize that you now control every inch of what was my empire? The people bow to you, they accept you as their ruler,” said the old man, his voice thinning.

“Yes. I am the supreme ruler,” said Ozymandias, his voice ringing with absolute conviction.

The ghost’s eyes appeared to dim. What is that? Tears? Disgusting. Pathetic, really.

“You also realize that your time here is limited. Just like it has been for those before you, just like it will be it will be for those after you,” he said. The old man’s ghost looked so human that for a moment Ozymandias feared he had returned in flesh.

“Get to the point, old man! You take too much of my time and you know better than anyone that it is suicidal for a man to displease the Pharaoh,” said the young ruler mockingly.

“If I remember correctly, it was I who safeguarded you at a time when you were vulnerable. Had it not been for my kindness you would have been thrown into the Nile!” said the ghost.

“You needed me. The sons you had were killed in the battle. It was I who safeguarded your interests, your positions in the line of bloody men all too glad to become the ruler,” reprimands Ozymandias, getting up to pull back the silk curtains from the windows of his palace apartment. “See my kingdom. See what I have become,” he said to the ghost who shimmered in the sunlight.

“You do not understand…” began the old Pharaoh, defeat and fatigue evident in every syllable.

“I understand everything,” retorted Ozymandias his face bearing a vehement expression. “Who are you to question my place in the world? It is my world now. Not yours. You are dead.” His screams filled the air at dawn, screeching sounds of sheer hatred.

The ghost’s face softened. For a minute Ozymandias was struck by the simple realization that he had never seen his father, let alone a ghost of him, cry before. The shimmering figure opened its mouth to speak but as the Egyptian sun’s glare sharpened, it disappeared into nothingness.

“You are dead,” repeated Ozymandias, his face crumbling not from grief, but rather from anger. “Dead to the world.”

*

Egypt’s winters knew great cold. The cold was not present in the form of snow; rather it was emitted from within the palace walls which were made of baked bricks and clay of the best kind.

“I want my face all over the tributaries of Nile. How hard is that for you to carry out?” yelled Ozymandias at the four men in front of him. Three of them whimpered in fear and bowed submissively; they were new to this business and all they want was some fresh bread to take home.

“Yes, of course, my lord,” spoke the fourth one. “I am ready to give you my services.”

“I shall have you crucified if you do otherwise,” lashed out Ozymandias, coolly gazing at them.

Still the fourth sculptor stood his ground and met the Pharaoh’s gaze.

“As you desire, my lord,” he declared before exiting the palace grounds. He had a long month ahead of him in which he would find Ozymandias to be the sole occupant of his thoughts.

“I’ll be damned if I am unable to make this work,” he said to himself, realizing how much truth his words held.

*

Percy was feeling claustrophobic. He had been feeding himself with countless Egyptian tales, myths and beliefs. The mummification was what bothered him most.

“Imagine yourself being eaten by hundreds of hideous beetles and bitten by countless scorpions, Mary!” he exclaimed to his wife.

Mary shuddered, almost dropping her porcelain cutlery at the thought. For the hundredth time that day, she wished those lost ruins had never been found.

*

“It is ready, my lord,” said the sculptor with a fanatic gleam in his eyes. He looked positively crazy.

“About time,” replied Ozymandias approvingly looking over his shoulder. His voice was like silk, polished over years of a posh upbringing. Few would believe that in reality he had been brought to the castle as a weak, sallow orphan with huge circles under his eyes and stones tied to his stomach to keep away the hunger pangs. Even Ozymandias himself had long since discarded this secret, dismissing it as baseless.

“I wish to see it,” he spoke after an elongated pause.

“Now my lord?” said the sculptor, feigning surprise. He had expected this.

“Yes, now. No matter if it is turning dark. We shall take the steeds. The quicker we reach there, the better,” replied the Pharaoh, a crease appearing on his forehead. Addressing his advisor he said, “Get that Hankshah clan executed. I don’t want them to lay their filthy eyes on my precious statue.”

The look on his face was terrible.

“What an animal,” thought the sculptor, well-aware that voicing his thoughts would get him lit ablaze in the Pharaoh’s wrath. It was rather like blasphemy, he mused, considering how the Pharaoh called himself a god.

“I am your master, therefore I will reward you greatly,” said Ozymandias, addressing the sculptor.

There was no gratitude in that voice. Only pride.

*

It was in the darkest hours of the night when Percy checked the letters that had arrived at his doorstep. He had been dispatching letters to his Arab friends, particularly those who regarded Egypt as home.

One of the replies to his queries seemed to strike a chord. It was by a former classmate. Aasiyah wrote, “I can only quote the last Apostle of Allah. I hope this helps you in your quest. Peace from my side of the world.

It is reported that Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said,

‘The best jihad is (to say) a word of justice before a tyrant monarch.’”

Lingering over the Arabic in her signature, Percy scribbled down a word in his notebook.

“Jihad.” Struggle, he translated.

*

“Where are you taking me?” demanded Ozymandias.

They had been traveling for hours. Even the steeds were experiencing exhaustion and wished to stop for rest.

“Just a little farther,” replied the sculptor, calm etched onto his face. Underneath the placid exterior, his heart was beating wildly; this was the moment he had worked months for.

“You fool, you said the same hours ago! Drive faster!” Ozymandias spat at him. He felt no fear or anxiety; only anger at the worthless sculptor. The Pharaoh was not known for his patience.

Ozymandias stroked his nose to distract himself as the sculptor bowed in affirmative and urged the steeds forward.

There in the vastness and eternity of the glimmering expanse of the night sky loomed a huge sculpture.

“And on the pedestal these words appear:”

“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings,” roared Ozymandias marveling at the wordplay. “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

Ozymandias’ euphoria knew no bounds. By the light from the burning wood and the full moon, he turned his gaze upwards addressing a God he did not believe in.

“Despair!” he yelled, as if issuing an order. “DESPAIR!”

The sand dunes rebound his voice, casting his echo in all directions. He laughed like a lunatic. This was the greatest achievement yet. He believed that the earth would now remember him just like the heavens above would never forget him.

“I am invincible. Look at me!” called Ozymandias to those who would listen. “I do not show you, except that which I see. Look at me!”

For a heart-stopping moment the sculptor believed that Ozymandias was really a god. He shivered, remembering every curse and each discreet death wish he had directed towards his ruler. He remembered how he spent a year practicing, sculpting Ozymandias’ face to perfection and then smashing the rocks, once they were ready, with glee. He would start with the eyes first. Always the eyes. He remembered and feared.

Yet when the rising sun revealed the wrinkles on the Pharaoh’s face, his sagging limbs, and the obese structure of the man who claimed to be god, the sculptor could do nothing but stare.

“You are human. Only human,” he blurted out.

Ozymandias could not hear him over his screams of victory, of the sweet success he had immersed himself in. His mind’s eye had conjured up people all over the world standing before him on the empty sand dunes that stretched out for miles and bowing to him. Only to him.

“You will die,” the sculptor carried on as if under a spell, “you may have bracelets of gold, all the money in the land, and a dozen women in your bed but you are no god. You have lofty towers of clay, but those too shall fall and turn to dust. Where will you flee then? You claim to have power but you cannot even control the simplest of things, like blades of grass pushing their way through the soil.”

By now Ozymandias had become attentive. His mouth was hanging open. His senses took in everything; the daybreak, the sculpture and the man who made it with blood and sweat standing before him. Everything.

“The real God sends upon you every kind of torment known to man, and yet you do not repent. Floods, locusts, the frogs, vermin and even blood in the waters of Nile. Yet you do not repent. You are right when you say you are not human. You are the devil personified,” said the sculptor, pausing for breath.

Never would he know that he had already taken his last. Ozymandias, rage pouring from every vessel in him, struck the man down with his own sword.

Despite the sculptor’s hopes, Ozymandias was not silenced. Not yet.

“Whose frown

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive (stamped on lifeless things)”

*

At a reunion arranged at a short notice by his university, Percy noticed Aasiyah sitting in a corner, a gaggle of girls surrounding her, discussing the latest fashions from the British Raj in India. Upon seeing Percy, Aasiyah replaced the bookmark on the book she was reading and excused herself from the group.

They walked into the glorious September warmth of the outside world.

“What were you reading?” asked Percy after they had updated each other on their families and work.

“The Qur’an,” replied Aasiyah, smiling.

“Oh. I’ve heard of that. May I have I look?” inquired Percy.

Aasiyah hesitated for a split second. “It’s in Arabic. You wouldn’t understand.”

Percy was not discouraged. “Can you read some of it to me? Translate it, I mean,” he asked very seriously.

“Of course. Any topic in particular?” Aasiyah thumbed her way through the manuscript.

“Does your God speak of the Egyptians?” ventured Percy timidly.

Aasiyah’s face broke into a smile. “A lot.”

“Then I’d like to hear it please,” replied Percy earnestly.

Aasiyah’s voice trembled as she recited; it grew stronger as she got used to the words she believed in drifting across the rose garden they were seated in.

When she closed the book, Percy was in a place far away. Thanking her profusely, he came to a decision. He had heard enough. All that was left to do, he realized, was to write.

*

“Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

As the pause between the quill and paper grew, somewhere from the distance he heard a woman’s gentle voice translate the message of God for him.

“And We cause to overtake them in this world a curse, and on the Day of Resurrection they will be of al-maqbuheen [those who are prevented from receiving Allah’s Mercy or any good; despised or destroyed].” (Qur’an, 28:42)

I am in a dilemma and need you to help me put things into perspective. It’s the age-old question of whether hijab is fard (mandatory) or not! I have been wearing hijab for many years now. I always believed that the ayah (verse) in Surat An-Nissa (Qur’an 4) is a personal choice that women make and can be interpreted in several ways but I was always afraid of dying without wearing hijab. Basically an old Egyptian shaykh (scholar) scared the heck out of me in my younger days, saying that women will hang in hell fire from their hair, and that’s how I decided to wear hijab. We have raised 3 boys in the process, ages 23, 21 and 14.

Within the last couple of years, my husband started commenting on why I am wearing hijab, if it’s attracting more attention through racism, etc. Why not just put my hair up in a bun so I’m not lavishly displaying my hair and Allah wants to make things easy for us not hard—especially in the society that we live in. He’s trying to convince me that if it was clear-cut like prayers and fasting, God wouldn’t have left it up to our interpretation. Lately, he has been increasing this rhetoric.

I am struggling with this! But on the other hand, I’ve been doing it for so long. I know many ladies that have taken off their hijab and the majority have no regrets and are okay with their decision. So a part of me is okay with taking it off and another part is not! Please help!

Indeed this is an increasingly common question for an age-old practice.  When I saw this question from one of our dear readers, it hit home.  Born to Egyptian parents who immigrated to the United States over 40 years ago in the midst of the Islamic Re-Awakening in Egypt, I too grew up with the notion that hijab was something commendable, yet optional.

I was content with my views regarding hijab until I was 20 years old.  I often looked at Muslim women observing the headscarf with a bit of confusion and pity combined. “Why would someone go through so much trouble? Why are they making it difficult for themselves?”

My belief was challenged, however, when unsuspectingly a relative of mine began wearing the hijab and gave a presentation about it at our masjid’s youth group.  Ironically, the masjid we attended was one of the rare few which did not propagate hijab, and depending upon the leader asked, the idea of its optionality was reinforced. I was shocked when I heard the clear evidence from Qur’an and Sunnah that hijab is fard.

I give some personal background to this question only to help readers who are struggling with this practice to understand that I am sensitive to misconceptions and public pressures surrounding the hijab. In this article, I wish to present clear evidence regarding the commandment of the headscarf and to provide rebuttals for the very common arguments Muslims raise concerning its status.

Evidence

In the Qur’an, the direct commandment for post-pubescent women to cover their hair and neck is in Surat An-Noor, ayah 31 (Chapter of the Light, verse 31).

“And tell the believing women to reduce [some] of their vision and guard their private parts and not expose their adornment except that which [necessarily] appears thereof and to wrap [a portion of] their khumur over their juyub and not expose their adornment except to their husbands, their fathers, […]” (Qur’an 24:31)

After reading this ayah, one may notice that there is no mention of hair per se.  This is where many of those who question the obligation of hijab, stop and say, “But where does the Qur’an say to cover the hair?” This is an example of how understanding a verse based on the English translation alone and without historical context results in confusion.  Let’s back up and understand this ayah, phrase by phrase.

The Believing Women

The very first directive from Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) in this ayah is aimed at Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace be upon him) to “tell the believing women” to lower their gaze, etc.  There are those who claim that the commandments in this verse apply only to the Prophet’s ﷺ wives or only at the time of the Prophet ﷺ.  Yet the address is for the “believing women”—an all-encompassing phrase.  Remember the ayah:

“And We have not sent you [O Muhammad] except as a mercy to the worlds,” (Qur’an 21:107).

Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was sent as a mercy to all of humanity—not just to the people of Mecca and Medina.

Lowering One’s Gaze and Guarding One’s Private Parts

Note that the first injunction described here is for the believing women to “lower their gaze” which is to avoid looking at anything haram (unlawful). Secondly, they are commanded to “guard their private parts,” (which in the previous ayah, verse 30, Allah (swt) addresses the believing men and commands them first to do the exact same—who said protecting one’s body from haram is only for women?).

An important point to mention in this part of the ayah is the various English translations found to explain the phrase “yahfadthna furujahunna”. In Arabic, the literal meaning for this phrase is to guard their private parts. This is specific and strong language to forbid the believing women (and in verse 30, the believing men) from engaging in illegal intercourse. Interestingly enough, in Pickthall’s translation of the Holy Qur’an, “yahfadthna furujahunna” is translated as “to be modest” and in Yusuf Ali’s translation, we find “to guard their modesty.”

For years, I wondered why some Muslims have the notion that hijab is not fard, but that we are required, instead, to only “be modest.”  I believe I found the source in these English translations.   According to many ahadith (narrations of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ), we are required to be modest (which in Arabic, is “hayaa’”).  However, this verse, in particular, is not commanding the women to have “hayaa’” in the general sense.  Here they are commanded, specifically, to “guard their private parts.”

An explanation of how guarding one’s privates can be successfully accomplished begins with lowering the gaze and continues with the commandments outlined in the rest of the ayah as related to dress.

Women Are Not to Display Their Beauty

Next, the verse reads, “and not to display their beauty, except what ordinarily appears thereof.”  In Arabic, zeenatahunna refers to the women’s natural beauty or adornments (here, the scholars of Qur’an understood adornments to refer to the hidden places of the body where adornments are worn ((Ruh Al Ma’ani by Shihaab Adeen Abi Athanaa’, vol. 18, pp. 309, 313)) ) Therefore, the scholars of Qur’an agree by ijma’ (consensus) that “wa la yubdeena zeenatahunna” refers to covering everything, “illa ma dhahara minha”—except for what ordinarily must appear to carry out daily affairs in public, which is the face and the hands ((Al Mufassal fi Ahkam Al Mar’a wa Bayt Al Muslim by Abd Al Kareem Zaydaan, vol. 3, pp. 317-320)) .  Interestingly enough, the scholarly debate has always been between whether the face and hands are to be shown, or if they too, should be covered ((See Shuroot Al Hijab Al Islamiyya by Dr. Fouad Al Baraazi)) .  Until very recent times, this commandment from Allah (swt) to cover the hair was never debated by the common Muslim.  And this certainly was never up for debate amongst the scholars throughout history.

Sheikh Yusuf Al Qaradawi resonates with this very concept when he responds to the same question regarding the obligation of hijab in his book—Contemporary Fatwas ((Contemporary Fatwas by Sheik Yusuf Al Qaradawi, vol. 1, pp. 453-455)) . He states, “One of the great fitnas (trials) and intellectual conspiracies that has been introduced into the Muslim world is the alteration of matters of certainty to matters of doubt and debate.” He also states that all of the scholars throughout history from various groups such as the Sufis, the Dhahiris (the Literalists), the fuqahaa’ (jurists), and the scholars of hadith unanimously agree that it is fard for the believing woman to cover her hair.

Some discount the commandment of hijab altogether due to the weakness of a commonly cited hadith (narration) found in Sunan Abu Dawood where Aisha radi Allahu ‘anha (may Allah be pleased with her) relates that the Prophet ﷺ, who upon seeing Asma bint Abi Bakr wearing thin clothes said, “O Asma, when a women reaches the age of menstruation, nothing should appear from her except for this,” and the Prophet ﷺ pointed to his hands and face.  This reasoning is faulty because even if we were to entirely dismiss this hadith, the clarity of the various segments of the ayah are enough to prove the commandment of hijab by itself.  In addition, there are other authentic narrations from the Prophet ﷺ outlining how thick the woman’s outer garment should be, how loose, how long, etc. These descriptions of the woman’s dress, coupled with the injunction to cover the hair, and to not display their beauty, collectively emphasize the injunction to cover all but the face and hands.

Covering the Hair, Ears, Neck and Chest

The injunction for covering the hair is evidenced by “and to strike their khumur over their juyub.” In Arabic, the word khumur is the plural of khimar, which is a cloth that is draped over the top of the head and hangs downward.  This definition is unanimously agreed upon by all of the scholars ((Contemporary Fatwas by Sheik Yusuf Al Qaradawi, vol. 1, pp. 453-455)) . Juyub is the plural for jayb which is the opening in the front of the dress that allows the head to fit through.  The key is to note that the women at the time of jahiliya (pre-Islamic times) were already covering their hair, as was customary throughout history in various cultures ((See What People Wore When: A Complete Illustrated History of Costume, St. Martin’s Griffin, New York, 2008)) and religions ((See www.Catholicplanet.com/veil/index.htm)) .  However, by letting the ends of their khimar hang down behind their back; their ears, neck, and chest were exposed ((Ruh Al Ma’ani by Shihaab Adeen Abi Athanaa’, vol. 18, pp. 309, 313)) ((See “The Bible on Women and Their Hair” http://www.therefiner’sfire.org/women’s_hair.htm)) .  This style can be seen in the image below ((History of Costume, by Braun and Schneider)) .

Then came the commandment to take the khimar and “cover their juyub.” By doing so, the women would now be covering their previously exposed areas.

The photo above depicts again how the head cover was worn.  The next photo explains the action of “walyadribna” which literally means to strike, “bikhumurihinna” with their head covers, “ala juyubihinna” over the front openings in their garments.  Ar-Razi, explains that “walyadribna“—to strike—is used to emphasize the importance of covering this area ((Al Mufassal fi Ahkam Al Mar’a wa Bayt Al Muslim by Abd Al Kareem Zaydaan, vol. 3, pp. 317-320)) .

Finally, the last photo reflects how the khimar (head covering) is used to cover the previously exposed ears, neck, and chest.

Summary of Verse 31

Let’s take a moment to reflect upon what the believing women are commanded to do:

1. Lower their gaze
2. Guard their private parts
3. Not display their beauty and ornaments except what (ordinarily) appears thereof
4. Take their khimar (head cover) and cover their chest (and other previously exposed areas)
5. Not to display their beauty except to their husbands, their fathers…etc.

It is very difficult to see how an ayah with so many specific, step-by-step commandments can be written off as someone’s “interpretation.”

Hijab, Khimar, Veil, Head Scarf…

Some say hijab is not fard based on the use of the word “hijab” itself.   Some argue that verses containing the word “hijab” in the Qur’an (which means to conceal, veil, screen, etc.) do not refer to covering the hair, so why do we use hijab to mean headscarf?  Let’s not get caught up in the semantics of the word hijab.  Suffice it to say that this word has become commonplace in the Muslim vocabulary to mean a head cover despite the fact that Allah (swt) uses the word khimar in the Qur’an. Yet the two terms are related in meaning. What matters is that we cover our hair, not the way in which we name the covering.

The Style of Qur’an

The Qur’anic style is not like our municipal codes of law that provide lists of rules and injunctions. Instead, the Holy Qur’an has a beautiful literary style in which Allah (swt) opens our hearts through stories, warnings, reflections, and direct commandments, all intertwined.

Imagine if instead of the ayah above regarding hijab, we were told to cover our hair, neck, shoulders, upper and lower arms, chest, abdomen and thighs, etc.?  How dry would that sound?  That is not the style of the Glorious Qur’an.

Take the obligation of prayer.  Can anyone deny the duty to pray Fajr, Dhuhr, Asr, Maghrib, and ‘Ishaa? The answer is no, yet nowhere in the Qur’an are these prayers listed together as part of the commandment to pray. Furthermore, a closer look will reveal that nowhere in the Qur’an are the number of raka’at (units) for each prayer described.  It is not necessary, since Allah (swt) sent His Messenger to teach us the specifics.

And although the issue of covering the woman’s hair has been submerged into a sea of heated debate, there is no hesitation to fully cover the hair and body for prayer. Again, the question is raised: where is this mentioned in the Qur’an? Why are we so resentful and phobic when we hear that women need to cover their beauty outside the home, yet we peacefully submit when it comes to matters of worship? Are we not trying to please the same Merciful Lord both in and outside of prayer?

Finally, some mistakenly look for exact words in the Qur’an to validate certain obligations such as hijab. “If there was an ayah in the Qur’an which read, ‘All women must cover their hair’,” I would have done so in a minute!” claim some who challenge the concept. Take a step back and remember that the command is to take the headscarf that covers the hair (khimar) and to modify how it was being worn. If there was a room full of women wearing head scarves, and you wanted them to cover their ears, neck and chest; how would you phrase the request? Would you ask them to put on a headscarf that they are already wearing, and then to cover the exposed areas or would you simply ask them to cover their exposed areas?

Conclusion

Referring back to our dear sister who submitted this question, the arguments you’ve heard to take off the hijab may seem convincing, however they are wholly unsound. To attract attention to yourself because you look different with the hijab is not the same as attracting sexual attention. And to refer to the verses and ahadith relating to hijab as interpretation is unfounded (there are many more ahadith not included in this article for the sake of brevity).  Finally, some use the ayah, “[…] Allah intends for you ease, and does not intend for you hardship […]” (2:185) to argue that hijab is not compulsory. If we had such license to rationalize away other injunctions when faced with any level of difficulty, what would happen to praying five times a day and to fasting?

While others around you were comfortable in taking off their hijab, I urge you not to do the same! From my experiences with sisters who have followed the same path, I have invariably seen unfortunate subsequent changes. Such changes include: tighter clothing, lower necklines, shorter hemlines, and more lavish hair-do’s, despite the intention not to. I know some sisters have had bad situations in which they were forcefully coerced into removing their hijab, may Allah make it easy for you. But for those sisters who contemplate this action by their own choice, I urge you and all of our readers to seek the pleasure of Allah and not the pleasure of His creation.