India

I’ve been meaning to write this piece for a long time, but couldn’t articulate it or put it to paper. It’s so hard to describe the role it plays in my life especially as an immigrant in the US. It’s so intangible and much more than the physical landscape or validation of our collective identities.

It’s a feeling, an ‘ahsaas’ that stays regardless of where we stay or travel.

It’s a feeling of pride: When a non-Indian colleague asks me ‘where are you from?’. I say ‘India’ as a matter of fact, but with an inherent smile every single time. I feel like bragging about it like a parent does for their ‘topper’ child. In return, people sometimes try to cover up their personal opinions of India related to poverty, heat, pollution etc. Other times they express their excitement for ‘exoticness’ of India, appreciating its strong heritage and culture. In either way, my sense of pride never flickers. It stays, permanently with me, all the time.  

It’s a feeling of never giving up: We all know that Corporate America is a white man’s club, promoting and encouraging their own kind even today. Fighting as a brown skin immigrant woman is no joke. But it’s the true Indian mindset of ‘Lage Raho’ that keeps us going, breaking stereotypes and racial prejudices every day. It's the same for Indian men fighting the same battle in a sea of immigrants. Often before big presentations at work, there is always that one non-Indian fellow who doubts my communication skills due to my skin color, accent and non-familiar ways of interacting. And is often surprised by my English and elocution. They can be diplomatic, but they can’t hide their surprised facial expressions. In that moment, I feel a small victory, perhaps one-hundredth of what our people must have felt during Independence struggle. Much less in intensity, but the same exact emotion of proving your worth to a perceived superior skin color.

It’s a feeling of home: I feel the same when I land in Delhi, Hyderabad or Kolkata -- it doesn’t matter. Even with hundreds of sub-cultures and religions, it has a strong sense of familiarity and comfort. It’s the same feeling I get when I go to the Indian grocery story here to buy Maggi. I know of many immigrants living here most of their lives, but call India their beloved home. It’s their grounding force. You can never forget it like you can never forget your first true love.

It is our first true love.

Happy Independence Day, India. Cheers to your freedom now and forever.