Mere desh ki dharti
[Warning - a post that's about nothing and yet, about everything. About identity and about losing it. Guaranteed to sound like a conversation you've heard or had sometime in your life. Feel free to skip this one.]
It's around that time of the year when I miss India a lot.
Ganesh Chaturthi, (which was always a big deal for me, growing up), Navratri, Diwali, Christmas, New Year. It wasn't the religiosity of these festivals, or the fact that we'd get off from school, it was just the spirit and the air of celebration, as if nothing could go wrong then....these 3 months were filled with a buzz and energy that I've yet to see in this country.
On the other hand, rarely in my 22 years in India did I feel as hyper-aware of being Indian as I feel right now. Take for instance, the fact that I'm reading Vikram Seth and R.K. Narayan, a feat which is almost easier to accomplish here than it was in India - I just ordered them online from the public library and went and picked them up, instead of buying them pirated or at an expensive store in Bombay. And as I read, I listen to Rafi croon on musicindiaonline.com while I cook paneer on the electric stove. I've watched and heard more Hindi and Tamil songs and films here than I ever did, and I now recommend them to my mother in Bombay!!
I think it boils down to a combination of two facts:
1. The Indian diaspora is a highly resourceful and determined group. We might have left Indian soil, but we carry India in our accent, our bearing, our lunch dabbas and our jholas.
2. America is indeed a land of opportunity, where dreams can turn into reality at a higher rate of probability than many other places.
Today, at worst I am one of countless confused NRIs who will always be a foreigner wherever they go. At best, I am a fortunate girl who has learned to appreciate the magic of ghazals, Madras slang, old filmi music, Amma's cooking and the wonder of the perfect pani puri thousands of miles from 'home'.
At the same time I am not one to cling desperately to Indian traditions because I feel lost or lonely, it's more about being able to celebrate and appreciate who we are. In fact, my desi friends and relatives here can attest to the fact that I blend in much more easily to the American social/corporate world than many others. I now have friends who hail from all over the world, be it Coimbatore or Singapore, London or Copenhagen, Shanghai or Chicago. I truly feel like a 'citizen of the world', and that boundaries matter little.
tere des ko maine dekha tere des ko maine jaana
jaane kyon yeh lagta hai mujhko jaana pahachaana
yahaan ki vahi shaam hai vahi savera
aisa hi des hai mera jaisa des hai tera...
P.S. I still miss the kachori from the Ghasitaram Halwai on station road in Chembur. And the wise-cracking sabziwaala under the flyover. And the curious questions from absolute strangers in the train about my shoes. And the colors of the saris and ghaghras under the yellow display lights. And Monginis' blackforest pastry. And Dileep the sandwich waala outside college. And the way VT station looks at 9 p.m. when the crowd is thinning down and the lights are up and a cool breeze blows and my mind is still and happy in the great buzzing craziness that's Bombay.
Yes, it's around that time of the year when I miss India a lot.
It's around that time of the year when I miss India a lot.
Ganesh Chaturthi, (which was always a big deal for me, growing up), Navratri, Diwali, Christmas, New Year. It wasn't the religiosity of these festivals, or the fact that we'd get off from school, it was just the spirit and the air of celebration, as if nothing could go wrong then....these 3 months were filled with a buzz and energy that I've yet to see in this country.
On the other hand, rarely in my 22 years in India did I feel as hyper-aware of being Indian as I feel right now. Take for instance, the fact that I'm reading Vikram Seth and R.K. Narayan, a feat which is almost easier to accomplish here than it was in India - I just ordered them online from the public library and went and picked them up, instead of buying them pirated or at an expensive store in Bombay. And as I read, I listen to Rafi croon on musicindiaonline.com while I cook paneer on the electric stove. I've watched and heard more Hindi and Tamil songs and films here than I ever did, and I now recommend them to my mother in Bombay!!
I think it boils down to a combination of two facts:
1. The Indian diaspora is a highly resourceful and determined group. We might have left Indian soil, but we carry India in our accent, our bearing, our lunch dabbas and our jholas.
2. America is indeed a land of opportunity, where dreams can turn into reality at a higher rate of probability than many other places.
Today, at worst I am one of countless confused NRIs who will always be a foreigner wherever they go. At best, I am a fortunate girl who has learned to appreciate the magic of ghazals, Madras slang, old filmi music, Amma's cooking and the wonder of the perfect pani puri thousands of miles from 'home'.
At the same time I am not one to cling desperately to Indian traditions because I feel lost or lonely, it's more about being able to celebrate and appreciate who we are. In fact, my desi friends and relatives here can attest to the fact that I blend in much more easily to the American social/corporate world than many others. I now have friends who hail from all over the world, be it Coimbatore or Singapore, London or Copenhagen, Shanghai or Chicago. I truly feel like a 'citizen of the world', and that boundaries matter little.
tere des ko maine dekha tere des ko maine jaana
jaane kyon yeh lagta hai mujhko jaana pahachaana
yahaan ki vahi shaam hai vahi savera
aisa hi des hai mera jaisa des hai tera...
P.S. I still miss the kachori from the Ghasitaram Halwai on station road in Chembur. And the wise-cracking sabziwaala under the flyover. And the curious questions from absolute strangers in the train about my shoes. And the colors of the saris and ghaghras under the yellow display lights. And Monginis' blackforest pastry. And Dileep the sandwich waala outside college. And the way VT station looks at 9 p.m. when the crowd is thinning down and the lights are up and a cool breeze blows and my mind is still and happy in the great buzzing craziness that's Bombay.
Yes, it's around that time of the year when I miss India a lot.
posted by RTD2 at 10:40 PM
5 Comments:
i'm a firm believer in 'home is where the heart is'- but then i've only lived max 30 kms away from where i was born.
but i've lived in lots of different 'home'/'neighbourhood' environments- multi cultural till age 14, very out of place till age 18, then as a guest in maharashtrian and parsi homes, in my in laws' home and now in another home with my in laws.
but always- my home- where i would feel peace and rest and be completely myself- was wherever my life partner was :)
Hmm...this is something that kinda runs in my head not only towards the end of the year but somewhere below the surface, all the time! So much so that I wonder if I should go back someday!
You can take an Indian out of India, but they rarely are Indians when they are there :-) So, your India has come back to you in leaps and bounds in the last five years, it seems!
good read! first time here..
actually ended up here trying to find out the different branches to the stroy tree u should check out mine!!
Its scary the way someone else's mind reflects your thoughts. It's that time of the year for sure!
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