“This is what you have to do and this is the way you will do it — the way it has always been done. Your parents, grandparents and their parents before them — this is the way they lived their lives and God forbid that you should break the pattern.” Many of us are fed this mantra at some point or other in our lives; for many it is the chain that binds them to the shackles of conformity.
Children have to display proper manners, teens have to study proper subjects, the youth have to select proper spouses and get married at the proper time; women have to maintain proper decorum, men have to get proper jobs, and couples have to keep a proper home with a proper family: everyone has to live properly in a proper, proper society.
We choose the same social, political and religious beliefs; the same careers, the same dress code, the same schools and activities for our children — we may as well be following a uniform code for living.
To a certain extent it makes sense. If we choose to live in a social structure for its many benefits, we need to do our bit to sustain it. We don’t want to play rebel-rogue, or dysfunctional loner. But where do we draw the line? Is life all about fitting into societal mechanics like a cog, and then just keep churning around till the machine stops?
“All my college and university years, my parents sent me off every single morning with the refrain that my dress and behaviour must be faultless and above gossip: as a girl I could not risk any scandal,” recounts Rida with frustration. “After university everyone warned me that I would be left on the shelf with my biological clock running out if I did not marry the first ‘suitable boy’. After marriage I was constantly badgered to produce children. Now that my children are adults, I am under pressure to repeat the same cycle with them.”
It isn’t any better for men. “There was a sword dangling on my head from the day I was born the only male child in a business community family. I had to leave my education and join the family business, in which I had no interest. At a very young age I had to marry a cousin whom I did not love. To carry on the legacy I had to keep having children till a son was born. And now I live a miserable life that I hate, to be released only by death, after which I will be buried in my ancestral graveyard. That is the way things are done.” Sami is rightfully bitter about how his life was played for him.
Should we carve our own path at the cost of non-acceptance, or tread the safe conventional road? What makes us follow the crowd?
For Zahid, “normalcy” is the ultimate goal. “I come from a dysfunctional home. We were always outcasts. Now I want to give my children the stability that I never had. I play it safe and move with the masses, or I know from experience that they will gossip about me, and once again I won’t belong.”
However, for many, conforming is not always out of choice. Sometimes we do it to please or not offend or not worry our loved ones or to win their approval or avoid their emotional blackmail.
“Traditions, norms and beliefs are a means of control”, believes Zamir. Societal, parental and peer expectations keep us within exploitable reach, often making us crush our own goals and dreams. I want to keep my identity, but it’s a continuous battle, and I don’t always win.”
But not everyone is fighting to retain their individuality; many of us are quite proud of doing well in the rat race. It’s not as if we actually want to do all those things. It’s just that we don’t want to be left out of the Jones’ crowd. “I often see mothers screaming hysterically at their children to win the swimming championship; these mothers don’t even know how to stay afloat themselves!” laughs Hamida. “Everything — from our children’s first birthday party to their wedding — is conducted for appearances.”
In our culture, women, especially, are brought up to ‘avoid scandals’. Very few of us are fortunate enough to discover ourselves, and even fewer have the courage to prefer individuality over conformity.
“A woman must uphold tradition — that is her primary function. She must devote her life to doing her duty, as defined by conventions, while keeping her opinions to herself. Why is it such a bad thing? Showing restraint, preserving dignity, making a marriage and a home work — that is the role of a true woman”, states Mrs Khan.
Zahra concurs. “Being different and striking out shows instability and unhappiness. Look at Diana. She was always embroiled in controversy, exposing her constant desire for attention and her neediness. Kate’s discretion shows she is stable and content. Being normal shows.”
Obviously, when we do come across individuals, we scoff at them as weird eccentrics. Perhaps some of us are quick to gossip and judge because we are unhappy conformists who envy others’ freedom.
If conformity is self-imposed, we follow the set course without a vision. We define ourselves with regard to our relationships, professions or social status. Who are we? What do we like to do? We seldom think of that. Instead, our life is determined by what others would like to see us do. If conformity is imposed on us, it leaves us with regrets for all the things we were forced to do and all the things we could not do.
“I follow the crowds where it suits me and leave them where it does not make sense. I do things my way but quietly and discreetly, rather than getting into arguments over what and how I should be. At the end of the day, I have to live with those choices, not society” are some words of wisdom from Adil.
“Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinions of others, for those voices.
Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth.”
—Katherine Mansfield
How brave, some of us may say. How foolish, others will think. Who can decide the right path? At the end of the day, it should be our own wants and priorities that define us.































