my dreamy India

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:

• 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.

day 8: an angel

Who we are close to and form trusting bonds with depends solely on their involvement in our lives.

Just as we need guidelines and rules in life to maintain order and have direction, we have blood-relatives to have direction in relationships. What our bonds are will certainly not be black or white, and may not be defined at all. But they are most certainly there. I've come to realize that judging people will do no good in understanding relationships. But I do have the liberty to judge their actions. Similarly, certain relationships cannot be removed entirely from our lives, as they are not "good" or "bad," but they can be only marked with some distance and boundaries.

Who we are close to and form trusting bonds with depends solely on their involvement in our lives. These need not be our parents, siblings, or relatives. They can be friends. They can be transient like time, with us for a moment, and then never to be seen, leaving behind only the impact of their being.

I met a lady on the flight. She worked with the customs and immigrations department, and was flying Business Class for the first time. With only a small bag, she snuggled into the seat next to mine and sent a warm smile in my direction. I smiled and turned back to look outside the window. My mind was overcome with a strange sickness and emptiness. I wasn't nervous. I was unhappy. I left for this trip with so much excitement, but stories of the past seemed to yank on the strings of my soul. I could feel the tears looking to escape...but this was no time to cry! The plane took off and I reclined my seat in an attempt to sleep off the sadness. I noticed the lady on my side trying to figure out how to recline her seat, and started to help her learn the buttons. She spoke to me a little, and then with warmth in her eyes and a smile that touched my soul, said something unexpected, "You look so sad." Embarrassed, I realized she must have noticed me. I know I look like a zombie when I'm upset. The fact that she noticed cracked me open. From thereon, we talked some more and I told her the reason of our trip. She told me about her family, and her daughter in college. She must have been missing her daughter terribly. It was evident that she was an unconditionally giving mother, and very easy to talk to. Her face showed years of strength and levels of courage, and was lit up in smiles the whole time. In our conversations, she mentioned a few more times how I should not be sad, I should be smiling, and that everything will go well.

Finally! I found someone to share with my original excitement about the trip and I was excited back again! It was a beautiful and heart-warming moment and I wished to be able to talk to her on and on, but the flight was short and we bid good-bye. After we went to pull out our luggage, I wondered why meeting her had left such a huge impact on me. Was she a God-sent angel? I feel so much better now. Walking out the airport, we met with stormy, windy, wet weather and I smiled to myself.

day 5: me vs. myself

I stayed at home today and spent some time with my niece. She's a beautiful, charming little girl, highly curious, demanding, dramatic, and extroverted. I wonder who imbibed these qualities in her, but am glad that she speaks up nevertheless. I am closely surrounded by numerous subtle and not-so-subtle examples of male chauvinism, sexism, and misogyny. It's sickening the roles that are assigned to everyone and even more sickening the twisted way in which they accept it. As I get pushed to the background and watch silently, I end up only harvesting very strong negative feelings within me. I make mental notes to self, "this is something I will never allow in the future," all the while doing nothing for the present. I know I won't last in this environment very long, at least not as myself.

The spectrum which includes the various formulations of acceptance is well-represented here. There are those who are blissfully, pleasantly, conveniently ignorant. Hence they are also the most tolerant, often scapegoats, punching bags, generally least respected, most likely to compromise, and most often.....they are women. Often compromising their self-respect, independence, and self-confidence, this is in the end is the only way they find stability and peace in their individual lives. It's an exchange they have made with their lives willingly. There are some who have a secret life behind the walls of simplicity and humility, and facade of wealth. Places and people they go to for escape and release, while they live superficial lives that reek of age-old, misplaced traditions. Things they know and do that make them dangerous to be around. Some harbor jealousy and a few, even worse, revenge. It's like living an Indian serial, with all the drama, romance, jealousy, and violence. In this jungle, my trust flutters around aimlessly, unsuccessfully trying to find people to land on.

I find myself confused sometimes - wondering if I should just blend in and do as these women do, to get on with life. But something inside me hates myself for even thinking in that direction. I can't let this cycle go on.

However, I haven't given up. I want to end by saying that even with such experiences, I so badly seek a glimmer of hope that I don't need now very much to keep faith. Faith that humanity and its culture are on their way to betterment. And I will be a part of this revolution. Revolution in some ways against myself, I will use all the strength that I have to change what I have the courage and power to.

day 2: independence

Some people have the wrong idea of independence. My mom said to me a few days back, "sometimes you're too independent." I thought about what she meant - is there such a thing as too much independence?? I realized she simply wanted me to depend on her more than I wanted to. For me, true independence starts from the mind and heart. The desire and then ability, to think and opine "carefreely." It then takes form through actions. Independence is not being anti-social and not wanting to depend on anyone. It's simply being self-reliant and not needing it. It's not about isolating oneself, but it's about being secure, stable, and confident so one can support others around them. It's about the journey continuing to fulfill yourself as a person, through believing and trusting yourself.

This morning started with rain that cooled temperatures down to the 70s! Woohoo!! We visited my aunt today. I love going to that side of the town. I get a rush of nostalgia and happiness tingles me from within! I feel like I'm 10-15 years younger and back to my maternal grandparents house. I love being pampered, loved, showered with care and sincerity, and that's exactly how they treat me every single time! I love the brazen honesty and the immediately inclusion into their family! Most of all, I love the sincerity and strength of their individual relationships with each other. It gives me hope, it gives me such a boost of positive energy. Above all, it proves all those people wrong who think anything is fair (tolerance, sacrifice, loss of self-respect and confidence) to keep a relationship alive. Yes! Relationships can be healthy and beautiful and I'm witnessing it right now! :) Take that, world!

Though my aunt has now shifted to the next building, the look is similar, and with them around, so is the feel. I saw pictures of my grandparents on the side table, and just wanted to cry. I miss them so much. I envisioned my grandma in the kitchen, rolling away chappathis and asking me to recite shloks after her. She wouldn't let me eat without washing my hands first and doing my evening prayers. Sometimes I wouldn't understand a Sanskrit word here and there and would try to get away by mumbling what I thought it sounded like...hoping that God, being my friend, would understand what I'm trying to say anyway. After all, the sincerity of the devotee is more important than their ability to pronounce Sanskrit words or recite shloks. As my aunt fed me dosas and sambar, I relished them, wondering the whole time if my grandparents were watching me at this moment, and if they were happy to see me. I secretly giggled with glee! When we left, I felt like grandpa was walking out with me. The feelings were a combination of sadness and satisfaction.

On our drive back, I noticed a girl at a gas station, backing her car to get close to the gas pump (actually the petrol pump..heehee!). I thought to myself - that's independence. Not only do I absolutely suck at backing cars, I also can't imagine myself driving in India. But small forms of such independence rebelliously spark my interest. Hmm. If I were driving in India, I wouldn't worry about being hit from the back or the front as much as I'd worry about being hit from the sides. I really think driving within the lanes will take out 80% of the stress and frustration of the drivers. Sure it won't make life any faster, but it'll make driving a little more predictable. I like that. I like predictable :)

I have been generally counting how many males and females I saw on our drives, and I can say with conviction that there is a much higher percentage of men out on the street than women, especially more so at night (and I wouldn't want to make this statement without having seen it first).

I also saw an ambulance squeezing its way out of thick traffic, but what caught my eye was a small Maruti Suzuki (I think?) that moved out of its way. I smiled. I also saw a bunch of young guys manning a stall, shouting out and sharing free cherry-colored drinks to passerbys and drivers in the midday heat. That was kind of them. I'm happy. Today's been a good day.

day 1: my Indian dream

The flight was enjoyable, albeit a little delayed, but we still made it on time. The flight attendants were kind and patient, virtues I didn't similarly experience before in the airport, for which I then offered to fill out a feedback form, specifically mentioning names of the two female flight attendants who were especially nice. Often I find usual airport staff trying to shuffle and organize bunches of Indian passengers into lines - and these passengers come in many forms: some are patient and rule-abiding and often blend in to the white noise of the airport. Some are traveling for the first time and are often confused, struggling to find helpers in the airport who will be patient and communicate information clearly. Some don't know what's going on, but are afraid of being mislead or confused, and push through lines and fight their way to the officers on duty. In my opinion, airport staff should be trained to handle passengers of all types, without any frustration or bias. After all, their job is of customer service first and foremost.

After we landed, we stepped outside the airport, welcomed by a hot gush of air. Even though travel was 13 hours, I felt mostly clean and refreshed. But the 5 minutes walk to pull the luggage to the parking in the humid hotness of Delhi, changed my mind. Yup, I need to shower and change :)

The car was filled with discussions of the new changes in Delhi, criticisms mostly, criticisms glittered with smirks and laughter that only showed how hopeless everyone felt about India. Once again, I witnessed a small "accident" (no one was physically hurt - but their egos had surfaced enough to draw a crowd). A young boy on a bike (a motor-bike) and someone my dad's age were verbally arguing and their body language seeming intentionally threatening. Everyone turned around to see - I looked away. It makes me very sad :( Will I be that person some day? Will someone I know and care about be in that place someday?

I sensed today a general fear in our public. Fear of being overtaken (on the road or in a queue while waiting), fear of our needs being neglected (pleasing the immigration officer, being especially nice to officials). For these reasons, Indians have grown up with virtues of tolerance and persistence. And when I'm in India, I sense these characteristics resurfacing in a broken, weird way. I start feeling aggressive, angry, and pushy. And maybe because I place these feelings incorrectly in situations, I often feel displaced myself. Indians practice overcoming feelings of failure, sadness, or basically anything that keeps them from achieving their basic and immediate needs. Each Indian on the road has their mind on the most immediate agenda for the day and their focus is honed in on it. There isn't time for a long discussion to ponder our feelings or to discuss the complexities of life. There isn't time to think about how you would ideally want things to be. There is time only for tolerance or action, and time only to prioritize and get things done.

I guess we never want to hear things from others that we ourselves feel. I wish so badly to be proven wrong but it's hard when those you're closest to have adopted and taught you the fear. Our previous generation gloats about the "Indian culture" but then why is there so much fear in them to return to India? Why are they so free about criticizing and so hesitant to enact change? I guess I know "why" but what I'll never understand is their lack of interest in progressive change. Somewhere, with certain things, they have tolerated, accepted, and then given up. Giving up is the scariest thing in the whole world and I hope to God that I never give up on my Indian dream no matter how tough it gets.

The start hasn't been positive. And I'm starting to realize that before I really see India, I may need a new pair of glasses. Maybe I need to start this journey with the right people, so that I can be unblinded.

day 0

We're delayed by many hours, so the start of this journey is unexpected. But as always, the rain has welcomed a new beginning. My mind collects the various excerpts of the lives people have lived in their transitions between India and here. A friend shared this interesting article by the author of India Calling, Anand Giridharadas. I'm hoping with all my heart, to be met with refreshing new experiences. I'm hoping to come back with a new mind and a new perspective. Looking back, it almost seems impossible. But this time, I hope to be at the right place, at the right time, and around the right people. At least some small percentage of the time. And I'm hoping my trusty phone/camera will support these experiences and I will make new memories which I will welcome in my next trips.