They are here. They have been here for a while, you just didn’t notice them before. Or perhaps you did but thought them not worth your time. Or perhaps you yourself are one of them.
Who are they?, you ask. You already have seen them, talked to them and maybe even are friends with them. They dominate your social media, your television shows and your favorite hangouts.
Who are they?, you ask, this time the tone and volume of your voice revealing your confusion and indignation caused by the vagueness of my words. They form a sizable percentage of this country’s educated and some would argue that the upper and middles class had been replaced with members of this cult.
You turn to walk away for me, vexed, not even bothering to inquire any further, convinced that I am one of the multitudes of paranoid and benighted Pakistanis, utterly sure in their belief about a specific diabolical religious group manipulating everything even though these very people will in the next breath talk how these groups have no power, for only God has that power.
But wait, I grab your wrist, careful not to touch your skin lest I spontaneously combust, I will not mince words any longer. You turn, still skeptical, a part of you wondering how a simple question of why I was wearing a hoodie with the hood on in the relatively warm basement of a coffee establishment, could lead to this. The cult I am talking about is but another new sect, no doubt blasphemous, for a Moulvi, who’s piety was established by the fact that he had rejected western satanic knowledge by deliberately flunking third grade, had learned of it from his father, who had learned it from his father and had declared it to be so. The fact that the Moulvi’s grandfather was a Sikh made no difference whatsoever because what kind of person would you be if you rejected wisdom based just on a person’s religion?
They dress like the general populace except for the fact that they wear loafers with no socks with most outfits.This sect follows mainstream Islamic teachings but also have the Ten Commandments of Social Media engagement:
1) Honour thy friends’ birthday on every social media platform even if thou hatst thy friend.
2) Thou shalt never miss uploading an edited profile picture at every culture and religious Eid profile picture.
3)Thou shalt discuss any and every controversial topic on social media.
4) Thou shalt be a pseudo-intellectual.
5) Thou shalt use a smokescreen of pretentious accents and flowery vernacular to hide your actual ignorance of the topics discussed.
6)Thou shalt follow every major and/or minor trend on social media.
7)Thou shalt always be a hypocrite, supporting feminism and inter communal harmony and such on social media but not in real life.
8)Thou shalt watch every entertainment, sports and any other show that is highly rated and then pass judements on it.
9) Thou shalt not post without hastags and thou shalt never upload a selfie without heavily editing it before.
10) Thou shalt judge a person based on their snapchat scores.
Understanding dawns on you as you hear the Ten Commandments. We’re standing outside the cafe now.
Yes, you finally understand.
Yes, I am talking about Those who never shave in November.
What you didn’t know was that they were a sect, that they were subliminally messaging you to influence you to become a part of this sect.
Yes, I am talking about the Fiqh-e-Movemberia
You turn away again and hold your head, this time overwhelmed by the barrage of information directed towards you. After a while you turn towards me and ask me why I know all this and have told you about this when you notice there is something different about me.
I pull back my hood, revealing an acne scared face with an unkempt poor substitute of a beard that makes you wonder if I have Alopecia. I know this for I am a Movembri myself. I have told you because we have been observing you and found you to be Movembri material.
You go into shock as two people behind you pour a bucket of ice water onto you and I upload a snap of you with the title #baptism while chanting YOLO. Before you can realize what is happening we run into the night chanting swag swag swag, and you are left there, alone and wet, trance music playing somewhere in the background.
