By Ayan Shirwa     

 MELBOURNE - “Excuse me”, the woman whispers. I smile politely at her, wondering what she wants. “That thing on your head, you know you don’t have to wear it," she tells me.

I glance around the crowded bus. My critic speaks not just to me but the other passengers as well.  The woman is smiling, seemingly oblivious that maybe, just maybe, she should not be critiquing a stranger's choice of religious dress. "You're a pretty girl. You shouldn’t hide behind that head wrap.”

It, of course, is not the first time that such a remark has been made to a Muslim women. It is unlikely to be the last. The hijab has a way of attracting unwanted attention in Western countries like Australia.  More often than not, it comes from non-Muslim women possessed by an urge to liberate their Muslim sisters from what they perceive to be a repressive piece of clothing.

Since September 11, the hijab has become a symbol for oppression. Books tell of Muslim women who’ve “seen the light” after escaping the shackles of Islam. Others talk about the image of the “Caged Virgin”. 

What is missed in this equation is the fact that for many women, young and old, wearing the hijab is very much a personal choice. For me, it is a decision that stems from spirituality and modesty. I don’t wear the hijab any more, but like my earlier decision to wear it, the decision to go without is a personal one, between my creator and me. I am not ruling out ever wearing my hijab. I may well do so in the future. But right now, I have made the choice to go uncovered.

Western society often seeks to place muslim women who wear the hijab, or choose not to, in two categories; those who are repressed and those who have excommunicated themselves from their religion. Such pigeon-holing leaves Muslim without much room to move. But how do I explain this to a stranger staring at me on the street?

When I used to wear my hijab, what most unsettled me were the looks of pity I received from passers by. They were usually  followed an effort to avoid eye contact, as if merely looking at me  was  difficult or awkward. When our eyes did meet, it was hard not to notice a look of sympathy. Or an all-knowing smile. I hated that the most.

It always triggered a suffocating self-consciousness; I would cower away from a stare, a move which only served to confirm the stereotype of the timid Muslim woman.

Perhaps those how do the staring would be surprised to know that many Muslims put as much effort into the appearance of the hijab as others put into their hair. We take pains to look immaculate and the different hijab fashions bring out the wearer’s personality. This process can take up to half an hour, sometimes even more.

The questions I've received about the hijab range from the mundane to the ludicrous. My favorite is: "do you sleep with it on"? "

I remember a hot and humid day, when I was on my way home from school. I was wearing pants and a tee-shirt, modest by all accounts, when a passer-by asked me, "aren’t you hot with that thing on"?  Whether due to ignorance or something more sinister, the comment was still offensive.

There are also the more chilling stories; of Muslim women being attacked, having their hijab forcibly stripped off their heads, or having eggs thrown at them from passing cars. While I have managed to avoid such behavior, I’ve still had my fair share of degrading comments. They hurt each and every time.

The ban of the hijab at schools in France came as a shock to me . Even though I no longer wore it, I was outraged to know that other Muslim girls were being denied the  chance to exercise their right to wear the hijab. News of the ban made me want to rebel and wear it as protest, although later I thought better of it. If I had worn the hijab in retaliation to the ban, I  would  have  done so out of spite,  rather than as a commandment from god.

It's not always smooth sailing with the relatives, I've come across opposition from may  family members who'd like to see me veil but I stand my ground and hope to one day change their hearts. A family member of mine who'll go unnamed has even bought me hijabs to try to coerce me in to covering up, she's old and frail so she'll use her age as leverage to appeal to my heart. I recently made a bargain with her and I now wear dresses and skirts so for her that's progress.

To assume we all have choices is a bit naive because there are some muslim men who force their female relatives to veil too obsessed with virtue and family  honor.

My mother gave me  some sound  advice when she said, “Ayan, you should make the choice to wear the hijab. That choice should be between you and god. Everyone else should be of no consequence to you”. I’ve followed that advice ever since. Now I have just got to figure out how to explain it to that lady staring at me on the bus.