Post-Colonial Dreams of a NRI

Did you watch the episode about the Indian elections by Hasan Minaj on Netflix’s Patriot Act last week? What did you think?

I’m not going to lie, I cringed when Hasan first announced he was going to do this episode. He’s born in the US, and while he’s a cultured Desi, I always worry that someone who hasn’t grown up with all of the nuances will oversimplify what is happening in India, which is why I’m so happy to say that this episode was clearly well researched. I was waiting for him to give a one-sided tunnel vision viewpoint, but I’m pleased to say, he never did! He unpacked the issues surrounding the elections and described both Rahul Gandhi and Narendra Modi with an impartial sense of humor while providing a global context, which I can only imagine is extremely difficult to do given the time constraint. Hasan hit the nail on the head though when he said “Na dude, the British won.” My only critique of the episode is that I wish he unpacked that brilliant statement a little more.

That little dose of brilliance is why I’m writing this post today. The origins of so many of the world’s problems today can be traced back to colonization. Whether we’re talking about the creation of Israel after colonization of Palestine or dividing territory to create India and Pakistan, we begin to see the ramifications of colonization quite clearly. India gained it’s independence from the British in 1947, but we’ve carried that Master mentality originally imposed upon us well into the new century. The British stole India’s wealth certainly, but it also took something that still harms us to this day, our civility. Identity politics was essentially a mandate throughout the British Raj. They were known for socially engineering division within a country and fostering religious warfare within the society to retain power, so it should come as no surprise that the British favored the Partition. Divide and conquer is how they accrued all of their power.

The British envisioned Pakistan as a strategic vantage point against the Russians. It is easier to dominate over divided factions than a united adversary. All leaders involved during the Independence and the bloody Partition that followed handled the whole situation terribly. The incoming prime minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru, was not the strong leader that India needed to bridge the divisions. The first governor-general of Pakistan, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, didn’t want the Muslims of India to be a minority, so he curried favor with the British and pushed for the partition to create a homeland for Muslims. Interestingly, he actually wanted a secular nation initially. The worst of all, however, was Lord Mountbatten, a naval officer rightly nicknamed the “master of disaster.” He was told by the British prime minister, Clement Attlee, in March 1947 to negotiate an exit deal with Indian leaders by October; if he could not, Britain would leave India with no deal by June 1948. Brexit has been creating problems long before it was a trending hashtag.

I’m assuming you know the background regarding the disputed territory of Kashmir, because I want to ask you to imagine if history had played out a little differently. What if Sardar Patel, the first Home Minister, was able to ensure Pakistan remained a part of the Republic like he did with Hyderabad. Hyderabad wanted to establish itself as an independent Islamic nation like Pakistan, but Sardar Patel stood his ground and persuaded them to join the Republic after an armed confrontation. The party that wanted to establish a Muslim Nation State is still a part of the makeup of the Indian democratic system today.

Imagine if the colossal rift between Jinnah and Gandhi never occurred, and instead they were able to negotiate a solution that was inclusive. Imagine if we had a leader that was able to transcend identity politics. This would spare the billions of rupees that both countries spend on guarding borders on one of the most hostile terrains. When I was growing up as a Hindu girl in India, I hated Pakistan and firmly believed Kashmir belonged to India. Honestly, it wasn’t until we moved to the U.S. and I developed meaningful relationships with my Pakistani friends that I was able to think critically about why I held those views. How could I hate an entire country without personally knowing anyone from there? My Pakistani American friends had a very similar upbringing to mine, I understood Urdu for the most part since it’s so similar to Hindi, they cooked with the same spices, and I felt naturally inclined to call the parents of those friends “Uncle” and “Auntie.”

In Ahmedabad, it seemed like everyone we knew had a story about someone they knew who had been wronged by a Muslim person. I know many stories about incidents that led to the reinforcement of stereotypes and painting of communities with a broad brush. I was surrounded by adults who did not see any nuance regarding Kashmir, so I didn’t see any grey area either. If you ask my mom today, she’ll tell you that she feels a sense of kinship running into a Pakistani person in the U.S. because the identities (religion) that prevented her from reaching out before, take a back seat to the challenges we collectively face in the U.S.

There are nearly insurmountable obstacles that stand in the way and I know the idea of reunification seems far-fetched, but perhaps we can develop another type agreement for peace instead. I am talking about the reunification of our minds more so than actual border lines. Until we see that our divisions were engineered and that our similarities far outweigh our differences, we’ll continue to dehumanize one another and waste resources on fueling the flame of hatred that was fanned by the British. This fire continues to be maintained by our corrupt governments to consolidate their own power, and until we find a real resolution to overcome our instincts to retreat into our own corner, we’ll continue to fulfill the objectives of the colonizers. Division is what they sought, so let’s stop giving it to them and chart our own path to peace.


The Truth about Identity

Identity.

It’s a loaded word when you think about what it entails; there are so many layers to it. Your personal identity includes the way you see yourself, and it’s intertwined with your self-image. It is important to each of us because it affects the way we feel about ourselves and how we behave in challenging situations. I’m writing this post because I’ve been thinking about my identity a lot, especially in the context of my husband, Mat’s, over the past few months. Mat requested I get him the African Ancestry genetic test for Christmas when I asked what he wanted a few months ago. He knows his parents moved here from Jamaica when they were young, but he doesn’t know where his forefathers came from.

I’ve thought about identity a lot ever since I met him because I was falling in love with someone who wasn’t Indian. I was worried that marrying someone who wasn’t Indian would make me lose my culture. Instead, I’ve noticed that it makes me want to understand the traditions at a deeper level so that I can explain it in a way that he and later, Ayaan, can understand and appreciate. I know it sounds somewhat counter-intuitive, but ever since my family moved to the U.S. from India, I always feel like I’m struggling to keep up with Indian culture, especially pop culture. When we first arrived at the suburbs of Pennsylvania, the other kids in my 5th-grade class made fun of my accent and imitated me when I turned my back to them. The British brought English with them when they colonized India so I, like most other kids in our social circles, attended an “English-medium” School before coming here. I knew the words, I just said them a little differently.

After being one of the popular kids in my class in India, I told myself they were teasing, and that they were my friends. I didn’t fully realize I was being ridiculed until another kid from India transferred to my school, and I saw how they treated him. I remember going home and repeating what I heard on TV until my accent sounded more like the kids I saw on there. Slowly, not only my accent but my language started fading. It wasn’t an active effort on my part since we always spoke Gujarati in the house. I know I should learn Gujarati beyond the 4th-grade level I was at when I left India, but I haven’t. I can still communicate with all of my family and to be honest, I’ve been rather lazy about it. All I know is that my Gujarati instantaneously improves as soon as I step off the plane in Ahmadabad, but I haven’t gone back in 7-years this January.

When it comes to traditions, I pick and choose what I want to celebrate. I love celebrating Diwali most of all the holidays. I remember we used to light firecrackers in the streets, on the terrace, pretty much EVERYWHERE, and it was AWESOME! I don’t get to do that over here, but I still like to celebrate. It’s the festival of lights, so I love putting lights up in some way, even if it’s just the flameless candles lighting up the stairs to our home and ordering Indian food to the house that night like we did this year.

Now, after Ayaan has come along, I love celebrating Janmashtami too. Dressing him up as baby Krishna is something I look forward to all year long. Lord Krishna was the human incarnation of Lord Vishnu, the preserver or sustainer aspect of God in Hinduism’s triumvirate. He fulfilled the premonition that said the 8th child born to Devaki, who was the sister of the wicked King Kansa, would possess divine powers and defeat him.

When I was in India, I loved celebrating Navratri (9 days of dancing late into the night) and Uttrayan (Kite festival) as well, but it’s just not the same celebrating here in the US in my opinion. Mat thinks that I’m more American than Indian just like he’s more American than Jamaican, but what he doesn’t realize is that I have more in common with his parents regarding our immigrant experience then I do with him. His dad and I were laughing and bonding over how excited we were when the more advanced toilet flushes came to our respective homelands during Christmas. Knowing the stories of my ancestors makes my identity that much richer. I have the blood of revolutionary leaders, progressive thinkers, teachers, innovators, loyal supporters, and most importantly, strong women, flowing through my veins. The caste or community I come from were originally the teachers or wise men whose quest it was to understand the true meaning of the Hindu scriptures and teach others. What I like the most is they were all different, but they were essentially good people whose primary objective was to ensure their basic necessities were met and to keep their family together.

I think these are the types of questions that Mat deliberates. We’ve had lengthy conversations about why he wants to know more about his roots. It frustrates him that the people who enslaved his ancestors are still able to rob him of his identity today. The consequences of robbing his predecessors of their identity generations ago impact him in a psychosomatic manner today. I can empathize with this because even though I know my roots, it still bothers me that the British robbed India of much of its wealth and showcased our jewels in their museums as treasures from their conquests. They were also the masters of the “divide and conquer” strategy; they socially engineered the cruel enforcement of the caste system with the inception of the “untouchables” as well as the divisive division between Hindus and Muslims. It’s not that these issues didn’t exist at all before, but the British weaponized it all in the quest for more money and power. I remember Mat telling me once that knowing his story only as far back as moving from Jamaica makes him feel like he only knows the small branches of his deep-rooted tree. He often fantasizes about being a descendant of Queen Nanny of the Maroons from Jamaica who valiantly led the forces in opposition to the British in the 18th century.

I hope these test results coupled with visits to the areas where Mat’s forefathers were robbed of their identities will help him make some peace with what transpired after that. While he can’t change the past, I firmly believe that knowing the root of his family’s fortitude and resilience may inspire him to unlock his potential further. “Because of them, We can.” His ancestors’ strength and sacrifice brought him and his family into this world; that’s a story worth knowing in my opinion. It’s not about the detailed content of the story as much as it is about how it’s told. I know I can’t wait to take Ayaan to India and help him develop a love for the beauty and imperfections of my culture and motherland. In the same vein, I want Mat to be able to explain the rich history of his people to Ayaan, the good and the bad.

One of the first things I want to do when we get to India is taking Ayaan to my maternal grandfather’s statue in Khambhat, the town where I was born. I never had the opportunity to meet my grandfather, but I think we would share a strong bond in our desire to work toward creating a more equal and just society. We wouldn’t agree on everything because I know he preferred the measured approach whereas I want to work to manifest the future we wish to see today. “If the eventual goal is the same, then what’s the holdup? Let’s tackle the obstacle and keep it moving,” I imagine myself saying to him. I can also imagine Mat and Ayaan traveling together to Jamaica and wherever else to fill in the gaps of their shared history once he’s a little older. These are all just fantasies as of now, but what I know I don’t want for Ayaan is to feel like he has to choose between being African American or Indian American. Both cultures are rich and a part of his identity. I want him to love and appreciate both.

There is also a dark underbelly to the concept of identity that we don’t talk or hear about too often, but it’s something worth noting and contemplating. The drive to protect your identity can be overpowering. Sometimes we can get so caught up in this that we neglect other important things: like being open-minded, truth-seeking, and kind to others. It’s hard to think clearly and objectively about something that you identify strongly with, and I think this is the driving force behind a lot of conflict in the world. Sometimes people take labels and end up confusing them with their identity.  Democrat, Republican, White, Black, and the list goes on and on. I’ve personally been struggling with keeping an open mind when it comes to identity and politics as of late. The perfect example of this darkness is bringing religion into an online forum or conversation. It can quickly degenerate into a religious war because it taps into the other person’s identity. It is an enlightening moment when you understand that your identity is who you are at your core before the world has its way with you and cloaks you with labels.

I am currently in the process of uncloaking myself of the labels that hold me back. It can be painful yet empowering to do so. Writing my previous post about my MS was a part of my uncloaking. What are some labels that hold you up from being your true self? Share them in the comments below.✌🏽🙏🏽