An Ode to Being Desi...Sorta

I grew up in Africa, spent about seven years of my school life there - two very different schools, one of them being an ever-so-catholic girls convent. They did have an insignificant boy population too, featuring my little brother. Schooling in Uganda was a lot of fun....initially, though, I had a lot of dull and terrifying days and I'd ache to come back to India, the makings of earliest definition that I formed in my mind of patriotism. My brother and I were Indians in a 96% African-populated school and day-scholars in a boarding school. Naturally, to them, we were freaks. But then like every kid,  I found my share of friends and instead of being the butt of their jokes, most of it being around the sing-song Indian accent routine, I found myself laughing with them... at new kids, at teachers, at bed wetters - It was a boarding school and nearly every morning, we would hear a loud announcement from the adjoining 2nd grade classroom , "All bed wetters are required to go clean their sheets!" And of course, we would all peep to witness the hall of shame scramming as quickly as their little feet will take them.

Anyway, the good news was that in a school where even the length of your skirt could come with a lot of labels, the girls were beginning to warm up to me.

Mostly cos I had hair longer than an inch, and their idea of wild, youthful experimentation was limited to trying out a catalog of hairstyles on my then-gorgeous, longish hair. Everyday, they would just emerge out of nowhere in a pack and just straight away get to work. (They were awful at small talk, I suppose.) And each day, I sported a new, weird-looking plait home, which is when I discovered what most of my scalp really looks like.

So, I did the dance from primary to secondary school and got along with all the other sheep in the herd just fine, carefully treading along the line between being like them and being me. But every now and then, I would be singled out and thrown out of the herd, with "You Indians" or "You muindi", why do you talk like you're singing, or why do you shake your head like that or why is your food so spicy or why would you come to our country...the usual stereotyping jazz. I felt like a wounded soldier at a battle for my country's honour. But I would just timidly shrug them away or say something meaningless, like, "Hey, I don't sound like that."

In the back of my head, it bothered me.

Being an Indian in a foreign country as a school kid makes life complicated. It just does. But frankly, at times in school, when we were singled out, I was a far cry away from feeling traumatized. On the contrary, I felt happy to be Indian,  perfectly at home with my roots, my chest swelling with pride for my desi-ness. (On closer examination, I had struck puberty.)

However, it got me wondering what it really means to be Indian.

I now digress from the mushy, desh-premi angle that this post is tending towards. Instead, I offer a list of quirky and fun things that make us who we are. (Not my intention to contribute to any stereotypes and apologies if any of this isn't true for you.)

1. Memorabilia and Collectibles:

Let's face it, we're an emotional bunch. So there's always an unattractive-looking grandma's chest with relics of the past in every Indian household - occupied with a timeline of birthday cards, letters, scraps of clothes, neglected or rejected dress materials and sarees, handkerchiefs and towels, artefacts, trinkets of jewellery and most of the times, random gifts from random people that we're just too sentimental to do away with.

2. In a Pickle:

Oh my God, I doubt there's a single household in India, regardless of class, that doesn't stock piles and piles of pickle jars in their pantry.It's as though we're perennially anticipating a pickle drought in the near future. I don't eat any but I've learned the hard way to keep them stocked anyway.

3. The Recyclables:
Everything in an Indian household is recyclable. So old tees become mops, Ferrero Rocher boxes become scrunchie holders, modified leftovers from the previous night get shoved into breakfast parathas or sandwiches; however fancy packaging from gifts is precious and is saved in a treasure trove until it finds a highly prosperous match.

4. Extended Family:
 Our extended families may fill an entire Vatican city so naturally we're oblivious to more than half of them. A wedding in the family, especially for us kids who were unfortunate enough to be disconnected from them for long, is like a memory test gone horribly wrong and we walk through the maze of strangers with a stoned expression on our faces, trying to absorb all of the family we never knew we had (or need).

5. The Cupidity of Desi Weddings:

A wedding is a gala event, a celebration of eternal love and togetherness, and also, a brewing spot for matches "made in heaven". So if you're a twenty-something girl, you're expected to doll up and flaunt your assets (in a 'nice girl' sort of way) and if you're a boy (25 and above), you're expected to show up (and shave). Prospective brides and grooms make eyes at each other and do some small talk when introduced. But if you make the cardinal sin of getting along and being together in a picture, you'll practically be rumored to be the next Saifeena.

6. Superstitions (or the Golden Rules):
We instinctively don't cut our nails at night, wash our hair on either Thursdays or Saturdays (one day of the week is definitely forbidden depending on where you're from), don't buy iron on Saturdays...the list is endless.

7. Love or Arranged:
That's the story you'll be telling your grand kids. Love is complicated but arranged  is.... COMPLICATED. An arranged match usually means meeting someone your parents think is perfect for you and more often than not, you will find yourself on a coffee date. If sparks fly across the coffee table, awesome. If not, you ask for time. If they still don't, you look for plausible reasons to tell your family on why you can't marry the guy or girl in question. Sparks are like fairy dust to your mom and dad and hence not acceptable reasons to throw away a good match.

8. Train Journeys:
So if you think your extended family wasn't enough, just embark on a long train journey. Eight out of ten times, you'll find yourself sharing personal anecdotes and food, cursing politicians, tending to other people's kids, and being one big happy family, sometimes without even sharing your name.

9. Uncle or Auntie: Doesn't matter how young you look or how radiant your skin is or how you're getting constantly mixed up for a school girl/boy, if you're married, you're an Uncle or Auntie to your society kids.

10. The Wardrobe Dilemma for an Indian Girl:

Cool

Not Cool

Acceptable: Midriff-baring lehenga choli or a saree with a halter-neck blouse
Frowned Upon: Midriff-baring crop tops and halters

11. The Mystical Trap of Indian Food:

It'll be a lifetime before a food lover in India will be deprived of new things to try out. With so many styles, varieties or genres to choose from, it's no wonder that food occupies a major chunk of our life. Even when we're not having Indian food, we're thinking about it. (Someone once told me that Risotto is....cough... just glorified khichdi.) In fact, we're so obsessively in love with our food that we're constantly trying to marry other cuisines with ours. So, we have Indo-Chinese variants of rice and noodles, Paneer tikka toppings on pizzas and Arrabbiata sauce with a Punjabi tadka. (That one's a keeper.)


Disagree? Want to add more? Be my guest and write in your comments :).