My trip to India ended a while ago, but I'm left with thoughts I need to complete.
Growing up in the U.S., I saw family, friends, mostly those of my parents' ages, cribbing and complaining about India. The topics were mainly corruption and politics, and then some about potential (career/personal/financial) and safety. At that age, I had virtually no positive/negative experiences with any of those topics and remained connected to India solely through my extended family. I loved returning to India. I would pack all my best clothes just for India, sometimes shopping extra for the trip. I wanted to look my best and be my best. The summers spent in India - my birthday was an occasion not celebrating me, but celebrating my family and how close we were. I had no desire for gifts! Who wanted gifts when you could immerse yourself in the heavenly joy of family and friendship! I loved staying back with my cousins at their homes, spending a week at my grandparents home, relishing authentic homemade dishes, eating with my hands, being pampered, shopping with my aunt, the heat, the street food, and of course, movie nights. I enjoyed the attention I got, hanging out and fooling around with my cousins all day long, I couldn't ask for anything more than for the trip to be just a little longer. The thrill was high and the mental stimulation was never-ending. For 7-8 years straight, I cried every time on the night of our return. I would take back with me, in the form of a memory, the last song that played on our drive to the airport. I fantasized tirelessly about moving back to India eventually, with no preparation of how, with whom, or where exactly. As time went on, I continued to seek India, constantly, everywhere I went, and in every person I met. I sought symbols of India and proudly flaunted evidence of my Indian-ness in all the ways I could think of - I wore churidars when going shopping. I interchangeably wore necklaces with pendants of my favorite God/Goddess. I walked out of temples proudly sporting a long red tika on my forehead all day and all night, sometimes even to school. I had no shame in who I was and all the things that defined me. I longed to make friends who possibly spoke/understood Hindi, knew about Bollywood. I kept a journal in which I wrote, each day at lunch, purposefully in Hindi to push my limits. I read Hindi magazines to improve my fluency. On Independence Day (Aug 15) each year, when I would to to Devon with my family to watch the parade, I would dress in the best Indian clothes I have, because it was the closest thing to being in India. I would grab as many Indian flags that were being given out to fashion all around my bedroom later.
Essentially, I was looking to connect with someone who felt for India the way I did and who could resonate my thoughts. Someone I could talk to about my passion all the time.
Each time, coming back to the U.S. seemed dull, lonely, and too quiet for comfort. There was too much spare time and too little to do. A small family and barely any friends. While everyone eventually fell back into their routines, my cousins and I kept in touch through emails, chats, and phone calls, reporting all our secrets, discussing the current affairs in our families, and intimately remaining in each others lives. Our small office room in my home here, and my laptop gave me my dreamy escapes to India.
However, at some point, we all grew up and grew distant, for reasons too complicated to fit in a small blog post. Fate had more new beginnings in store for me though. As time progressed, I started college. On the first day as I settled into my dorm, I brought with me one of those Indian flags I got from Devon, and slipped in in my pencil holder mug, thinking to myself, this is a new beginning and I'm excited to meet new Indians! College speedily introduced me to new friends and I started to find a link between the Indian in me and my new friends. Some were Indian, some were not, but somehow, it all fell into place on its own and I felt less lost and more comfortable. I started grounding myself here, and the romantic idea of moving to India started to fade. While I am still deeply attached to India, I am not resentful about being here anymore. Strongly holding on to my dreamy India isolated me from living in the present, and so it took a really long time for me to find my new self. At the same time, I simply couldn't (and still can't) imagine my life and future without India as a part of it. I have finally disconnected the meaning of being Indian from anyone I knew in India, and have connected it to what it truly means to me to be culturally Indian. I have connected myself to India, not by people or any external factors, but by my cause - giving back. It was something I was born with and will forever connect me to my motherland. Only true relationships last in strength and time, and only certain experiences give us the courage we need to adapt. And together, I hope these two things may make my experience of India and America more wholesome and real.
Here are a few words/phrases I use to define Indian culture for myself:
Growing up in the U.S., I saw family, friends, mostly those of my parents' ages, cribbing and complaining about India. The topics were mainly corruption and politics, and then some about potential (career/personal/financial) and safety. At that age, I had virtually no positive/negative experiences with any of those topics and remained connected to India solely through my extended family. I loved returning to India. I would pack all my best clothes just for India, sometimes shopping extra for the trip. I wanted to look my best and be my best. The summers spent in India - my birthday was an occasion not celebrating me, but celebrating my family and how close we were. I had no desire for gifts! Who wanted gifts when you could immerse yourself in the heavenly joy of family and friendship! I loved staying back with my cousins at their homes, spending a week at my grandparents home, relishing authentic homemade dishes, eating with my hands, being pampered, shopping with my aunt, the heat, the street food, and of course, movie nights. I enjoyed the attention I got, hanging out and fooling around with my cousins all day long, I couldn't ask for anything more than for the trip to be just a little longer. The thrill was high and the mental stimulation was never-ending. For 7-8 years straight, I cried every time on the night of our return. I would take back with me, in the form of a memory, the last song that played on our drive to the airport. I fantasized tirelessly about moving back to India eventually, with no preparation of how, with whom, or where exactly. As time went on, I continued to seek India, constantly, everywhere I went, and in every person I met. I sought symbols of India and proudly flaunted evidence of my Indian-ness in all the ways I could think of - I wore churidars when going shopping. I interchangeably wore necklaces with pendants of my favorite God/Goddess. I walked out of temples proudly sporting a long red tika on my forehead all day and all night, sometimes even to school. I had no shame in who I was and all the things that defined me. I longed to make friends who possibly spoke/understood Hindi, knew about Bollywood. I kept a journal in which I wrote, each day at lunch, purposefully in Hindi to push my limits. I read Hindi magazines to improve my fluency. On Independence Day (Aug 15) each year, when I would to to Devon with my family to watch the parade, I would dress in the best Indian clothes I have, because it was the closest thing to being in India. I would grab as many Indian flags that were being given out to fashion all around my bedroom later.
Essentially, I was looking to connect with someone who felt for India the way I did and who could resonate my thoughts. Someone I could talk to about my passion all the time.
Each time, coming back to the U.S. seemed dull, lonely, and too quiet for comfort. There was too much spare time and too little to do. A small family and barely any friends. While everyone eventually fell back into their routines, my cousins and I kept in touch through emails, chats, and phone calls, reporting all our secrets, discussing the current affairs in our families, and intimately remaining in each others lives. Our small office room in my home here, and my laptop gave me my dreamy escapes to India.
However, at some point, we all grew up and grew distant, for reasons too complicated to fit in a small blog post. Fate had more new beginnings in store for me though. As time progressed, I started college. On the first day as I settled into my dorm, I brought with me one of those Indian flags I got from Devon, and slipped in in my pencil holder mug, thinking to myself, this is a new beginning and I'm excited to meet new Indians! College speedily introduced me to new friends and I started to find a link between the Indian in me and my new friends. Some were Indian, some were not, but somehow, it all fell into place on its own and I felt less lost and more comfortable. I started grounding myself here, and the romantic idea of moving to India started to fade. While I am still deeply attached to India, I am not resentful about being here anymore. Strongly holding on to my dreamy India isolated me from living in the present, and so it took a really long time for me to find my new self. At the same time, I simply couldn't (and still can't) imagine my life and future without India as a part of it. I have finally disconnected the meaning of being Indian from anyone I knew in India, and have connected it to what it truly means to me to be culturally Indian. I have connected myself to India, not by people or any external factors, but by my cause - giving back. It was something I was born with and will forever connect me to my motherland. Only true relationships last in strength and time, and only certain experiences give us the courage we need to adapt. And together, I hope these two things may make my experience of India and America more wholesome and real.
Here are a few words/phrases I use to define Indian culture for myself:
- Generosity. Giving. Individual's responsibility to family/society/community.
- Humility. Acceptance.
- Unity. Family. Sharing.
- Giving back. (Quoting SDR)
- Transparency. Truth. Trust.
Here are a few words/phrases I use to define American culture for myself:
- Self-respect. Self-importance. Individual's responsibility to himself/herself.
- Courage. Self-realization.
- Independence. Friends. Space.
- Giving forward. (Quoting SDR)
- Transparency. Truth. Trust.
And no doubt, while the balance between the two may be shaky at times, these are all equally as important today in my life.
I don't want to connect India to corruption, politics, or sexual harassment. I want to highlight it as a country with tremendous hope and opportunity for all citizens, cultural unity, social humility, and a prosperous economic future.
I don't want to connect India to corruption, politics, or sexual harassment. I want to highlight it as a country with tremendous hope and opportunity for all citizens, cultural unity, social humility, and a prosperous economic future.
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