Inspired by Americanah:
On Being Not Indian Indian, And Not American American. But Not Indian American either
After reading Americanah, as I was in the shower I thought about how lonely I felt being in America. I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my American roommate, who is perfectly nice. We get along well and have a lot in common. But we never invade each other’s privacy, which is now something I pretend to care about. If my roommate’s friend comes home and I decide to stay inside my room, that’s totally fine because I can have my own privacy. But sometimes I wish my roommate would insist that I hang out with them. Or drag me out to dinner even if I say I’m too tired. And as I was thinking about this, I started to miss home a lot. Being single in America is lonely, but this is compounded by this culture of ‘privacy’. At home, there’s no time to be lonely, and there is definitely no privacy. Everyone is sharing everyone’s problems all the time. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything when I’m home, because there’s so much to deal with — family issues, extended family issues, home issues. Maybe this all comes with having your own home and family. But I don’t know if Americans feel that way when they are at home with their families. Based on my limited observations and knowledge from TV shows, there is not much communication about real issues, and relationships with family become pretty superficial after a point. As I stood in my shower, I suddenly felt a longing, I’m not sure for what. Just for being needed, or for having someone expect something from me. At home I’m expected to be at dinner, to talk to my mom, not be in my room all day, help out with things around the house, call my grandparents and tell them when I will visit etc. But here in my apartment I have no obligations and no expectations from anyone. And that’s why being single here feels even more lonely.
After living away from home for more than 10 years, my family now have no expectation for me to come back home, and anything I do is now held to a different standard — an American standard. I’m allowed to date anyone I want; I can live with someone without being married to them because that’s just the American way. I can decide to drop out of my PhD program and do something else if I want (if I can figure out a way with visa restrictions), because I’m now allowed to be flexible and fickle like Americans, and follow my ‘passion’, or not. There’s no pressure to be anything. And this thought made me think of the fact that if I were Indian Indian — if I had really struggled to be where I am today, not gone to an international school followed by a British undergraduate university and then an American University for my masters, if I spoke with the accent of someone who has grown up in India her whole life, I would not have these liberties. I would not be able to casually date a British guy or a Mexican guy or whoever I wanted without thinking about how this would affect my parents. I would feel more guilt rather than entitlement to my freedom. But at the same time, I would feel Indian Indian, and not lost somewhere in between. American Indians (or Indian Americans, I’m not sure what the right term is. Basically second generation Indians who have been born and brought up in America) also face a similar identity crisis, as their parents struggle to hold on to every last shred of Indian culture they possibly can — making their kids learn Indian musical instruments, join a bhangra club in college, go to temples and sing bhajans. But at least they can struggle with these issues in the comfort of their homes with their families, and not thousands of miles away from home. They get to eat home cooked Indian food, and still be American. They get to live in a community of other people like them. They get to call themselves American, and not explain why they speak English so well. They can just say ‘I’m from Ohio’, and not have to explain that their family is actually from Calcutta — because they sound American. They also haven’t had to learn American culture, because they grew up being American. And they don’t need to know about Indian culture because they don’t live there. But being Not Indian Indian / American American / Indian American / American Indian, I feel like I don’t know enough about Indian history, Indian politics or even everyday issues that my country is dealing with, nor do I know enough about American history or politics. In my group of friends from different parts of the world, I’m expected to be the authority on subjects of Indian religion, Indian food, Indian languages — but I can barely speak Hindi and am not really religious. I couldn’t possibly know enough about those things because I left home at the age of 17, and had to try and fit in with the British culture. And then I moved to America and had to fit in all over again, and change my accent so people here could understand me. And now my accent doesn’t sound Indian or American or British — I’m just a mix of bits and pieces of all the places I’ve lived.
I miss home, but at the same time I don’t really want to go back. I don’t relate to the people and culture anymore. I can’t imagine having to live with my parents, and deal with family obligations for more than the 3 weeks that I usually do when I go home for holidays. What I miss is my idea of what home was before I left it — when it was the only thing I knew, and the only place I could even call home. When my friends hadn’t scattered all over the world after high school. When I could just be my parent’s daughter and not have to worry about my identity. Now, I have a home in America too, which feels more like home in some ways, and less in others.
I met someone from Bombay some time back, and finally had someone to talk to about the lack of non ‘Indian Indians’ at Columbia. We bonded over Bollywood music, and movies — but not the new ones. The ones from when we were growing up. And we shared a dislike for the new generation of Bollywood movies and music. In those few hours, I felt so much more myself than I had in a long time. I could speak in my Bombay accent and didn’t have to try to sound like anyone else. I realized that I’m not alone in feeling not super Indian or American or Indian American. And maybe it’s okay to not fit into a defined category. I’m a Bombay Indian who studied abroad and now lives in America. I’m still Indian in many ways, and have adopted some aspects of the American ways.
