Me the Desi

Originally written in May 2002

Me the desi...

The greatest problem of the greatest generation of our country (with apologies to Pt. Nehru and his Tryst with Destiny) is that we don't want to be Indian. And by that I don't mean we want to be American but there is this certain something we seek when we leave our shores and come to this "Greatest show on earth" of a land. The perfect picture of America embedded on our minds by Archie comics and Hollywood blockbusters becomes part of this so called American dream that most Indians want to pursue. Question is how real is this dream or are we playing a game of smoke and glass with our selves

Tomes have been written on how the great Indian diaspora has thrived and survived and taken and given to this country yet a whole lot of people are really not happy. Happiness is not really related to simple basic needs that this country easily satisfies but a search for constant peace. Most Indians are always in limbo. A couple of days back, a few American friends of mine (note the stress on American and not friends) were discussing the war in Afghanistan and suddenly one of them asked me when do you think we will go in with troops. The 'we' in the conversation meant 'Us Americans'. For a moment there I was confused as to when the hell did India decide to get into this war. This second thought nature has persisted in me how much ever I try to assimilate into the local psyche. Its like we Indians are an archipelago in this great American ocean and how much ever we try we just cant sink in. Further more we will ridicule certain others for how much they have lost their Indianess and talk with an 'American' accent.    

So what are we missing here. Are we destined to a life in limbo forever panging for our 'home' and never really having the guts to go back. Is the famous 'x+1 email forward' what really is our destiny.  Is there no way to attain our own nirvana or get to our heaven and meet some cute Apsaras. 

Without being part of the "Intelligencia anonymous ", I really think this problem has to be handled on a Phaedrusian level. The problem has to be analyzed and cut up with a different knife. What is it that makes us unhappy or restricts us in a Bill Pattersonian way from total transmogrification. Where is our cardboard box and a simple marker drawn button ? Its been said a hundred times about people who sit on the fence for too long will eventually fall on one side. Truth is we seemed to be as comfortable as Rodins Thinking man embedded on the fence with "fevicol ka majbuut jood" , always pondering what to do. Truth be told every time I walk alone in a big American city the only person I can associate with is Neo (from the movie matrix) when he gets out and comes back in to the world for the first time. everything seems normal but he feels like a total stranger. I must confess that the first time I landed up in a big city in America, I was as googgled as any man alive.

Having grown up in Bombay, hustle and bustle have been my two girl friends still that's a threesome I enjoy. Here I feel I am not man enough to do anything. 

Guess the problem is that there is no problem. Its just a growing pain not so much as for myself but for the whole that I represent. Its like the problem of Indian kids growing up in America. They are usually labeled as confused but when it comes down to basics they suffer the same fate as us. Its like we are the first settlers in a flux of civilizations. Maybe it might take a couple of generations of my progeny to be completely anglicized but here and now this problem has no answer. 

So the only way to deal with it is like every other problem with no answer. Be a mute spectator to the wonders around you. Live and enjoy and like the old Nancy  Sinatra  song goes, "you only live twice or so they say once for yourself and once for your dream". Some dream...