Maria Khan, a 26-year-old research scholar at Jamia Hamdard, Delhi, designs her own burqas. She sketches on a paper an “A-line” burqa, a “coat-style” one or a burqa with a side-collar that ends at the knees. When she wears her jeans, she puts on a grey-chequered burqa. And with salwar suit, she matches it with a floral burqa. “The colour black has nothing to do with the burqa,” she says. 

Maria started wearing burqa three years ago when she completed her Bachelors of Pharmacy. The decision, she says, had nothing to do with religion. “I wanted to experiment with it,” she says. “I always wanted to be on a par with men. I’d seen in my college and elsewhere that women were either favoured or discriminated against because they are perceived to be the weaker sex. I wanted my male peers to treat me as equal. I thought, a burqa might help,” she says. 

She bought one and wore it, against the advice of her family who were afraid it would single her out in a crowd. Her Muslim friends too advised her not to wear it when she appeared for interviews for two MNCs. “They thought I wouldn’t get the job. But in my college, I was the only one who got selected,” she says. The interviewees did ask her whether her burqa would impede her interaction with colleagues. “I explained to them that the burqa is an empowerment tool for me. It helps me to be treated on a par by my male colleagues. By not giving me a clear-cut feminine form, it does not let people look at my sexuality,” she says. She didn’t join either company as she enrolled for her Masters.  

... contd.