Tak malu, ke?

So L and I were waiting to cross the road from Maya to Velvet, when I heard someone say, quite obviously addressed to me on this fine Ramadhan night, "Tak malu, ke?" I suspect it came from that Red Saga that I was staunchly refusing to look at.

I didn't say anything at the time, but I can't help trying to think of a way to succinctly convey the message that I had had a lifetime of Islamic education, and that my parents had barely let more than a few months of my life go by without some Ustaz or other teaching me things. That I had searched for meaning and found my own way, and that I probably knew and cared more about the religion than he did. That my belief is not based on my parents forcing it on me, and my prayer is (mostly) not because I'm forced to, but is pure and sincere when I do go through with it.

I've been trying to think of a concise way to say it all, that I may not have been wearing a hijab, but I bet I have more religion in my heart than some who do. That I may be out at night, but at least I don't pretend to be that staunch when I know that I'm not.

Then I had it. The perfect way. Succinct, precise, and concise: "Fuck You!"