What If I Were A Muslim?

A memory from 2013 recently resurfaced in my mind, one that still makes me pause and reflect on human behavior. I was in transit at Hong Kong airport, coming from Dubai with Tokyo as my final destination. The airport was undergoing renovations, and I felt a bit disoriented while navigating the corridors toward my gate.

As I walked, a woman in a professional suit gently called me over from a corner, joined shortly by a man. It quickly became clear—they were immigration officers on special duty. I prepared myself for questions, as I had faced similar encounters many times before.

The exchange went something like this:

• Woman: Where are you from?

• Me: India

• Woman: No, I mean where you are coming from now?

• Me: Dubai, for a business meeting

• Man: Where are you going?

• Me: Tokyo

• Woman: Do you live in Japan?

• Me: Yes

• Man: Where is your family?

• Me: They are also in Japan

• Man: Do you have a Japanese identity card?

• Me: Yes (handed over my Alien Registration Card)

• Man: Please show your passport.

• Man: What is your name?

• Me: Jayaprakash (full name as in passport)

• Man (curiously): So, you are not a Muslim?

• Me: No

After this, he handed back my passport with a smile and wished me a pleasant journey. Throughout the encounter, both officers were polite, gentle, and occasionally smiled to ease the situation. I remained calm, careful not to escalate or show frustration—it’s part of their job, after all.

But as I walked to my gate, a thought struck me: what would have happened if I were Muslim? I didn’t dwell on it long; speculation rarely ends well. Yet, the question lingered.

This memory resurfaced because of a story from an Egyptian friend. He is a general manager of a U.S.-based company in Japan and travels frequently to the U.S. Every time he lands, he is sent to a separate room for questioning. The same officer handles him each time, recognizing him well—but there is no concession. The reason, he believes, is that his name signals a certain religious identity.

These incidents illustrate something subtle but powerful: bias exists everywhere. It might be based on religion, nationality, skin color, or other markers. Sometimes it’s unconscious, sometimes institutional. Denying it is easy and common—but acknowledgment is far more constructive than denial or dismissal.

Bias is part of human nature. What matters is how we recognize it, reflect on it, and ensure it doesn’t dictate our actions or cloud our judgment.