It has been over 6 years since the 9/11 attacks. The repercussions of that terrifying day, however, continue to affect Muslims all across the world today. Acts of terror persist in different regions, carried out by different groups, each with varied interests. But a significant portion of those reported are in the name of Islam. Despite this Islam continues to be the fastest growing religion in the world, interest having picked up after 9/11.

Over the years the Muslim youth have become increasingly aware of their own identity. Unlike the generation before them, spirituality and wearing ones religion on ones sleeve is no longer viewed as regressive or uncool. Young girls wear fashionable head scarves with pride and young men sport well groomed beards with dignity.

Unfortunately, in most parts of the world, demonstrating your beliefs in such a fashion would be enough to brand you a fundamentalist. Your refusal to fit into the crowd and conform to popular culture sets you apart as a misfit. This has been widely seen in issues pertaining to Muslim head scarves and Sikh turbans, particularly in the west.

How do the same situations translate in India? Do the Indian counterparts of the Muslim youth feel less threatened? Or do they find themselves constantly being measured up before being accepted as an equal? More importantly, are today’s youth doing anything to bridge cultural gaps by increased communication?

Personally, I have often been asked how my parents, being devout Muslims, allowed me to pursue further education away from home, something I found quite amusing, having always been surrounded by people to whom freedom and education are mainstays in life. Being brought up in Bahrain, a Muslim country in the Gulf, I never realised how stereotyped Muslims were till I came to Mumbai for a degree. I was constantly made to feel that, even though I ‘looked’ and ‘behaved’ Muslim, I still didn’t fit the stereotype.

‘Even if we are stereotyped, it’s only temporary,’ believes Roohi Mohammad Ali, an IT lecturer from Hyderabad. ‘People do tend to presume a lot, especially because I wear a headscarf. They unknowingly associate practising Muslims with backward views. But the air would immediately clear once they started talking to me. I guess they would learn to look past appearances and understand that one can be a practising Muslim as well as a modern educated woman at the same time.’ The 26-year-old completed her masters from the Liverpool John Moores University, UK and is currently teaching at the University of Bahrain.

Fadia Ismail Wangde seconds this experience. The 20-year-old admits, “People generally feel very apprehensive befriending me, but once they get to know me it all settles down well. And then it doesn’t take time to dispel their notions of all practicing Muslims being backward.”

Ather Wani, a 3rd year dentistry student from Mumbai, is yet to figure out the logic behind the generalizations. Having learnt to field questions every now and then regarding his territory (he hails from Kashmir) and faith, he says that what hurts him the most is that ‘even some of my friends conveniently tag all Muslim Kashmiris as terrorists.’

19-year-old Akbar Khan, however, doesn’t feel that he’s always being judged just because he is a Muslim. ‘There are times when a few tasteless jokes are cracked about terrorism and Muslims, but I don’t believe that the general Indian Muslim is equated with having fanatical views.’ An engineering student from Goa, Akbar feels that India’s diverse cultures and beliefs help foster an environment open to such discussions.

Ekhlaque Ansari, 24, from Delhi shares, “I can’t recall feeling pressurized living up to my religion when it comes to socializing within my immediate circle of friends. However, there have been instances were some of my close friends have confessed that they might have never befriended me if they knew I was a Muslim. However, our professional lives have definitely been spared the embarrassment of generalizations. Working as a communication and events planner, all that has matters for my clients is that I do my job well. They don’t care what religion I belong to, or what language I speak.”

For Amara Baig, who completed her Masters in Marine Biology from Goa University, life on the campus wasn’t always easy being a practising Muslim. ‘People assume we are narrow-minded just because we choose to follow our faith. Misconceptions would go away to a certain extent, after open discussions, but since old habits die hard I think the stereotyping still remains,’ she says. Amara believes that the problem stems from the Muslim community itself. ‘Muslims themselves do not know how to tackle issues due to lack of education and guidance, while the educated among them refuse to participate and take any particular stand. Muslims need to break out of this shell and understand that they are doing a great disservice to Islam and their community by keeping mum,’ she says emphatically.

In fact, Azim Premji, Chairman and CEO of Wipro Technologies, has received flak for exactly this reason. The world’s richest Muslim entrepreneur prefers to distance himself from the plight of the larger Muslim populace, and thus be seen as a truly ’secular’ individual. Premji’s private philanthropy is dispensed through a foundation that cuts across religious lines. After the Sep 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, US officials asked the Aziz Premji Foundation to help start an education programme that would instil moderate values in Islamic schools. The foundation declined the religion-focused project, according to its chief executive, because “we are working for all.”

Yawar Rehman, 32, a filmmaker feels the presence of biases, as well as a lack of action to clear them. “Whenever I have discussed my thoughts on making a film underlining issues such as deep rooted biases and crises faced by the Muslim community, fellow Muslim politicians generously applaud me. But when it comes to actual backing, they choose to steer clear of standing up for the cause in their bid to stand out as secular.”

With inputs from Saadia Dhailey, Mumbai