A few days ago, at the wedding of two Sri Lankan Muslims, both of whose families hail from Mannar, families forcibly evicted from their homes by the LTTE in 1990, a married Sri Lankan Muslim woman, a doctor by profession, cut a slice from the wedding cake after the bride and groom had formally done so. As she was about to eat the piece, her husband snatched it from her hand and threw it away. Those around, female and male, many also hailing from Mannar, also evicted, were aghast. What on earth was this man doing? He explained, in all self-righteousness, that wine was an ingredient in wedding cake and Muslims should not eat it. As it turned out, the cake in question was made by a Muslim and contained no alcohol. The husband could have cautioned his wife, ascertained the cake’s contents, then suggested, repeat suggested, a specific course of action accordingly. (Not the ideal scenario; ideally, he does nothing. Lets her do her thing. Or, perhaps, just says: let her eat cake.) He did not. He presumed he could police, regulate her behavior. (His parents, by the way, cut her another slice. They assumed they should police his behavior.)
