A silent yet unsettling change around us

Having been born and brought up in Lalmatia, the community there has been one that I grew to love over the past 24 years.

There was always a sense of harmony, religious and otherwise. But quietly, as a wave of fanaticism has swept through the country and the locality grown, Lalmatia is not like it once was.

I have never had the luxury of owning my own home. Instead, I moved around the neighbourhood thrice, renting different homes. Because my family became well-known over the years, I have never had a problem getting a house.

But development in the area has given rise to multiple modern apartment complexes, leading to an influx of people that has seen the close-knit community disappear. What once was a community of familiar faces has now become a concrete block where people no longer greet each other on the streets.

That came to the fore as my mother went house-hunting over the past few weeks and met with a landlord and a lady who were nothing like the ones we came to know over the years.

The first was a man, perhaps in his fifties and dressed in a thawb (an ankle-length Arab garment with long sleeves). He and members of his family occupy seven of the 10 apartments in his building, with the other two rented by long-term occupants.

Unlike most landlords he provided a very professional contract, undoubtedly drawn up by a lawyer. The stipulations were nothing out of the ordinary, and it even mentioned that the rent would be increased by six percent after two years, a welcome addition.

However, things took a strange turn when he commented on my brother and me.

Saying that children without a father -- ours passed away in 2007 -- usually grow up to be rowdy, he would have to meet us and speak to us to ensure whether we were suitable for his environment.

The gentleman added that his entire family was quite religious and that he wanted like-minded individuals as his tenants, even insinuating that he will be willing to provide guidance by taking us to the mosque for prayers.

He introduced my mother to his nephew, also dressed in a thawb, who had returned from abroad after completing his higher education, commenting that he was a prime example for the sons of tenants he wanted.

Refusing to let a stranger “take responsibility” for her two children she raised quite well for the past 10 years, my mother remarked that she had not seen such an extremely religious family since she last visited Pakistan and moved on to the next house, owned by a single mother with one son.

It was there that she was in for the shock of her life.

After discussing all the finer details and coming to an agreement, it was the final condition from the landlady that astonished my mother.

After confirming that my mother was a Muslim, the landlady in her mid-forties very casually said: "Non-Muslims cannot enter my building."

Flabbergasted, my mother asked the lady to repeat herself and upon confirmation that she had heard her right the first time, my mother gathered her belongings to make a quick exit.

We are still on the lookout for a new house, preferably one without either a covertly or overtly bigoted owner.

This is in no way to say that piety can be negative. But for one who is truly pious, they ought to know that there is no compulsion in religion.