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I’ve always had a fascination with letters or words in Arabic and Urdu; ironically, the former I can’t speak (apart from the basic conversational phrases) and the latter is weak compared to my English language skills. My appreciation for the letters came from a purely aesthetic perspective and for the words from their history, which I find richer than their equivalents in English.

It only made sense to me that the beautiful and often abstract lines and curves of the Arabic script, from typography to calligraphy, be translated onto clothes and jewellery. My first time ‘wearing a language’ was on a scarf featuring colourful Arabic letters, which I wore tied around my neck or tossed over the shoulder. And I clearly remember being told at the time — and this is easily as far back as 20 or so years ago — that ‘wearing Arabic’ was disrespectful. The reasoning, when asked, was always the same: because the Holy Quran is written in Arabic.

A little context: I grew up in the Middle East so I had heard people converse, curse and fight in Arabic. So the religious reasoning for the “disrespect” of the language never made sense. And interestingly, it never came from the people who spoke it; it was always the Pakistanis who perceived Arabic to be as sacred as the text of the holy book.

My love for lettering continued, despite a few frowns here and there, in the form of clothes, jewellery, and eventually learning calligraphy. Unfortunately, this article is not meant for me to write more about such style pieces but about the incident that took place in Lahore’s crowded Ichra Bazaar on Sunday.

I’m not using an adjective before “incident” because I don’t know which one to choose: shameful, horrible, ignorant, misogynistic, ugly, terrifying — the list goes on.

Here’s the crux: a woman decided to exist in a city in Pakistan. But not only did she exist, she decided to wear something that was bright and colourful. Not only that, her dress had Arabic letters. Naturally, the male gaze that all Pakistani women know follows you to every nook and corner of this country no matter what and how much or little you wear, fixated on her clothes. The simple act of wearing a fabric with random Arabic letters and words like helwa (meaning beautiful) was deemed ‘blasphemous’ by a charged group of men who took it upon themselves to be the judge and jury — and executioners had the police not arrived at the scene.

The mob, with clearly limited understanding of the religion they were up in arms to defend, kept on insisting “blasphemy” — a charge that is punishable by death by law and an accusation that has led to multiple incidents of public lynching in this country — had been committed while the shopkeepers and traders tried to tell them the fabric featured no Quranic verses.

Moments leading up to her rescue by the Punjab police, the woman could be seen shaking with fear. In a country where women being stripped naked is not unheard of and death by lynching over allegations of blasphemy are far too many, what this woman must have gone through while taking shelter in a shop while blood-thirsty men stood outside is something only she knows and the rest of us can imagine.

She was spared her life but not without an admission of guilt; her admission of guilt started with her being covered in a burqa while the crowd stood resolute, and being whisked away by the police as the chants and camera recordings continued. It ended with her being “forgiven”, as one man says in the video shared by the police, and an apology from her for her unintentional gustakhi.

The message this video sends to all the women in this country is don’t fight back, don’t even try. Even if you’re right, even if you’re accompanied by your husband, even if you’re at no fault, and even if forgiveness should be sought by those who accused you falsely.

There’s been no clarification or apology from those who mistook words from a language due to their own lack of knowledge for holy words, terrorised a woman and declared themselves the religious police.

Granted, the video of her apology could possibly be a safety measure following the woman’s release from police custody given our history with blasphemy accusations and how they can follow the accused. There’s a reason why Aasia Bibi, even though acquitted of blasphemy charges from the highest court of the land, still doesn’t live in her own country.

Nevertheless, the video should make every citizen of this country feel shame, disgust, fear, and anger. Here’s a woman apologising for doing absolutely nothing wrong, except for giving into her fondness for lettering, like I and many others have, and for existing, like I and all other women do.

Sadly, instead of feeling any of the above at what she has been made to go through, there are still those who are outraged at the use of a language on clothes, as evident by some comments under pictures on the page of a Kuwaiti brand that has designs in the same print. To quote one highly uninformed comment: “You are making a joke of Islam and Muslims.” As if all of the respect and honour of a religion was hanging by the loose thread of a dress with Arabic on it.

The entire incident tells us one thing clearly: the people who want the woman’s head on a plate are ignorant about the very religion they want “to protect”. How many, I wonder, have actually read the Holy Quran? How many have learnt Arabic to know what they are reading? How many have gone beyond the “sanctity” of a language to truly understand the teachings of Islam?

In a country where women face blame for being raped while minorities have to go out of their way to prove they didn’t mean any insult, such incidents drive home the same point we have heard time and again from sane quarters: religious zealots need to be reined in. The country cannot afford another Jaranwala or Sialkot. The same province that elected and celebrated its first ever-female head on Monday cannot have a repeat of what happened on Sunday.

For this, the state and all political and religious parties need to condemn this incident in unequivocal terms and come up with solutions to not weaponising blasphemy laws; practical and unapologetic solutions that don’t keep letting perpetrators go free and which are based on accountability and not appeasement of fanaticism.

The Gulberg Circle ASP Sheharbano Naqvi could only rescue the woman by assuring the mob that she had “handled three such incidents”. But should there even be a need for such assurances by law enforcers?

A Karachi brand, Manto, featuring Urdu calligraphy on its pieces felt the need to ask its customers “if you ever feel uncomfortable or unsafe wearing your Manto outfit then please just set them aside”. But should a clothing brand even have to bear responsibility for endangering someone’s life while having done no wrong?

The Kuwaiti brand simply said they use Arabic words and letters in different fonts “since it’s our language”. Did this even need to be said?

Coming back to the commentary I mentioned at the start of this article that I encountered while wearing clothes and jewellery with Arabic and Urdu script, a language is not “disrespected” if it’s printed on a fabric or on silver. Arabic has been used for multiple purposes by Muslims and non-Muslims, and has been around for centuries and will continue to be. Its “honour” is not in danger; the women and minorities of this country, and their right to exist, are.