Where you are is who you are

 

Who you are is directly tied to where you are. I feel that more strongly every time I come home to Hyderabad.

Very little is spoken of the rootlessness immigrants feel. However well we adjust, however grateful we are for our homes of choice, that indefinable sense of loss is always there. The loss of dreams and aspirations one always has with their place of birth. I will not even attempt to verbalize what refugees must feel- that pain of losing all semblance of a home must be devastating. I can only speak of what I feel. I am blessed to have homes in my two countries. And yet I don’t know where I actually belong. It takes a few months in one to start missing the other. The political situation in both countries just makes things more difficult. Which is worse? Where can still *stay* my home?

This restlessness is exacerbated when I travel back from one home to another. It takes a while for those roots find their way from my heart. It takes a few days to adjust looking for pens or spoons in places that exist in the other home. It takes another few days to get into the clothing, driving and behaving of the place. Takes a week to become the individual that belongs there.

It makes me think of how blessed are those who live their lives calling one place home. To grow and change with their city of birth, connected to all friends and family; and may be become the focus point for those that have moved away. I don’t think ‘aloneness’ is something they would identify with.

‘Aloneness’ has been a distressing development for me. It is the realization that your situation is so uniquely yours – your hopes, attachments, fears – that you are alone in dealing with them. Visiting family and friends I have grown up with is essential to my mental health. Yet each visit here seems to bring new sorrows now. Change marches on, slaughtering anything in its path. Styles die, rituals become outdated, connections fade away., loved ones pass away leaving an unfillable void. Even traditional homes that had brought that stab of joyful memories are cleared away for some mammoth eyesore. For those who live here it is the endemic growth of a city. I come in a year and see a stark change, and struggle to belong to this rapidly changing society. The comfort of people and conventions you have known all your life seems to be whittling away. Hyderabad was my default setting. The peace that I would feel once I stepped out of the airport is still there, but I find myself counting days to be back home in Orlando. Even with its very real, all-encompassing aloneness. So, is this still where I should be?

 

Stop Manufacturing Garbage

 I hate recycling. Especially plastic bags. I avoid using them to begin with, of course, but whatever little is not under my sink for reuse goes into regular garbage. Why?

Because plastic recycling, I believe, is a farce. It is something our society (and the plastic lobby) has come up with to keep feeling us good about our excessive consumption.  Plastic is in every part of living from toys and containers to brooms and décor. What I want to talk about is single-use plastic products, mainly bags and bottles. The very visually obvious source of pollution.

Household recycling does little to combat plastic pollution. About 50% goes to landfills, usually shipped to under-developed countries (such a neat idea, isn't it? 😠).  Only metal and glass are completely recyclable. And Thermocol is just poison, both for humans and the environment.

The products with wonderful labels that make us happy, and spend a little extra -  'this is made entirely from recycled bottles' - constitute about 9 % only. Yes, that bottle cap that sea gull is choking on - its yours. So every time I put plastic bottles in my blue bin, I feel like a fool.

The United States is the leading producer of plastic waste. For reference, India is not in the top ten, but single-use plastics are now banned. Biodegradable 'plastic' bags are common, and most people use cloth bags for shopping-  from groceries to jewelry. Ice-cream cups usually come with wooden or reusable (and very cute) steel spoons. 

Only change like that can be effective. You and I, and a thousand other consumers, however responsible, can not make a dent in the garbage going into our oceans. It has to be stopped at the production level. Why can't the manufacturers be forced to switch to compostable plastic? The technology is already there. Why don't all grocery chains simply use only paper bags? Trader Joe's does.

There is so much waste we create, and there is no perfect solution. After food, plastic is the largest component of landfills. And that does not account for all that is floating in Earth's waters. But we have an obvious and simple remedy: change the manufacturing rules. So why are we not committing to it?

At our individual level, we must make a lifestyle change, beyond filling those blue bins. Ask for paper bags at the grocery store. Use personal metal or glass bottles to carry drinking water. Switch to compostable serving products for those big get-togethers. I have. It is the only way I feel I am doing my part to save ourselves from being smothered in our own wasteful waste.

Pain

 The calluses on my heart

Brought in by grief and strife

Make pain for me a source of grace

Defining strength through sorrow 

And hope through surrender

Theses calluses on my heart

Redfine love through scars.

Loss and pain dont 'make you stronger if it does not kill you'. It just kills you. Piece by piece. Damage upon damage. Pain is just that- pain. It is not a character-building tool. It may help you understand another's, but that is a hard lesson. All you can do is learn to live with it. And maybe, if you are strong enough, eventully, grow with it.

Thankful

 

Today, this Thanksgiving Day, I am grateful for family, friends and favors.

With everything I am grateful for, there is heaps more I know I miss. With everything that I have gained, there is equal amount of loss. So why the gratitude?

The simple premise that it could be worse is usually satisfactory. That itself is something to be thankful for, certainly.

But today I will delve in more. “Look at those worse off’ was always very unjust to me. Are you supposed to be happy that there are those worse off? Or that it justifies that people should be worse off? It adds to my distress that I cannot, nay, will not do anything, to help those in unfortunate situations. The pain others are going through does not vindicate or alleviate mine.

I can only think that what we should also be grateful for is the pain, the loss, the disappointment in our lives. It brings into sharp focus what we do have, what blessings we had, and those that will come. Pain does not only accentuate pleasure, (and the memories) it gives it meaning. Sorrow gives us a depth of feeling and empathy that colors not only our lives, but others’ as well. Loss strengthens us in ways we never realize till that strength is called for in the days ahead. Pain demonstrates that the regular little joys that come to us routinely are of an immensity greater than big achievements and happy lifetime events. Every breath, every smile, every sip of water, every ray of sunshine – is something joyous and joyful that we should embrace with gratitude.

And more than anything, greater than any other learning, grief and loss teach us to value what really is important. To be grateful for the seemingly small miracles that show us the kindness of God (or nature, or universe - if that’s your belief), to overlook the unnecessarily-enlarged little hurts, to understand that though everything in this life is fleeting, there will always be blessings coming to you.

And with thankfulness in my heart, I pray for and manifest blessings on all those who need them, in any way and form they are wanted.

 

Love your roots

 

The other day I overheard a conversation between two men from my countries.  (yes, 'countries'- for whatever my passport says, I am both Indian and American) The American was telling his co-traveler that he would really like to visit Mumbai some day. My upcoming smile froze midway when I heard the Indian respond 'Oh you will get robbed'. I was too shocked to actually say all the things I wanted to – and I still regret not having said anything.

 

Mumbai is one of the safer urban cities on the planet. Of course there is crime. It is bound to be any place where there is a stark difference in the lower and upper income groups. Newark scares me even in the day and I still would not tell a potential tourist that it is guaranteed he will get hurt. There are valid arguments that crime in India is under reported, but my gripe is with the assured 'you will be robbed' statement. Even if Mumbai was such a scary place, and even if we give him the benefit of doubt and chalk up his reaction to a very bad experience – why would he put his own country down? For every pickpocket on the street, there are hundreds of poor rickshaw-walas who return dropped wallets.

 

Whatever may have been desi uncle's reasons, it got me thinking about a disturbing tendency I notice among some immigrant families. There is marked conscious effort to dismiss one's roots as inconsequential. To them, it is savvy and smart to distance oneself from where they are from. Certainly, a natural dissociation may come after generations of living away from a place or people, but that is a natural progression. But even that does not warrant demeaning our heritage and relationships. Belittling our place of origin does not make us look better, it only shows how little we respect ourselves.

 

I realize migrating to a culture that is very different from the one we inherit lays considerable stress on a person’s bearing. We question the new notions that we accost of course, but we also challenge old assumptions. Our very identity eventually needs to be reworked so that we fit in comfortably not only with the outside, but also within our skins. But in no way can that development be aided by holding one's own countrymen in contempt. To say buying off the thelas (street carts) on the street is not exactly salubrious is one thing, to jest about those who may not afford better, or know better, is another. (Personally, I still maintain nothing can beat the flavour of thela sugarcane juice). To accept that your child will not converse well in your native language is one thing, to flaunt this lack of understanding as a source of pride is disgusting. Speaking in a non-native language (that too not very well, I may add) is not a badge of honour!

 

So what is it that makes one person a sensible immigrant and another a joke? I have had the pleasure of knowing many grounded immigrants from all over the world. Irrespective of the part of the world they come from, all successful, happy immigrants – and I mean successful psychologically and emotionally – have one common factor – they respect their home countries for whatever they are. I am not going to say India is the cleanest place in the world, but it surely has one of the most hospitable people.

 

We are all citizens of the world. And where we get to live is mostly a result of circumstance. So if we get to settle down in a new place, it does not give us the right to trash our birthplace, or that of our parents’. An officer at US immigration was telling us how it is not possible, and certainly not expected, that you disconnect your heritage. A new loyalty does not require repudiation of everything that was before.

 

Let’s face it. You do not feel better by putting down someone else. Similarly, you cannot make yourself look better by putting down something that is forever a part of you. Who we are is inextricably linked to where we are from, and if we cannot recognize any substantial good in our origins, we will be unable to be of benefit wherever we end up. Immigrants are unique, and we add immense value to our new countries because we have the culture and learnings of our birth countries. But we can never be comprehensively integrated and happy if we cannot appreciate the best of where we come from. The tree only flourishes when the roots are alive, acknowledged and nourished. Love your roots as much as your fruits.

Those who do nothing

It is a well- known quote -  "The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing." I believe that those that do nothing are not good anyway. 

We have all known at least one person who has displayed lesser mind and a harder heart than we expected. We have all learnt to relegate some 'friends' in our social circle to the 'smile and ignore' section of our awareness. 

But it becomes difficult to smile, or ignore, a person's total lack of empathy for human suffering. Yes, there is too much to deal with at times. Yes, we are individually helpless in alleviating pain and hunger. However we can talk about it, we can donate our time and money, we can make our voices heard. At the very least, we can try. And maybe we will never make a dent in helping women in Afghanistan, or school all the children in a refugee camp. But we can be nice the kid to the car wash, we can stop by for chat with a lonely neighbor. We can help by changing the energy around us. 

Even that little brightening of someone's day will help. Because everyone, everywhere, needs a pick-me-up. The world is in a mess, and oppression is widespread - political, or cultural, in small villages, or in entire countries, sometimes simmering, sometimes smoldering. But never ceasing. I am not proffering any political solutions, I am only trying to figure out our reactions.

I think when we are confronted with our helplessness in the face of a horrific reality of oppression, injustice, violence, we react in two ways. One, we turn away. 'Not my problem. What can I do anyway.' This is, of course, very wrong. Everyone can do something. We manifest. We add to the global awareness. We wish. We make a tiny ripple in our sphere of existence. There is nothing that is 'not my problem' anymore. Karma is real. Thigs across the world will affect you. Sooner than later.

Two, we hate. That strong feeling directs all the negativity to the 'villain'. The more we expand that hate, the more powerful it makes us feel. The more 'right' it makes us feel. This is a dangerous path to be on. Because hate corrodes us, it breaks down the morality we have built for ourselves. And it never solves anything. Not even in our limited  personal sphere. It is ok to let the anger come. Anger propels action. But action must help solve and resolve, not hurt or punish. 

Whether we need to shake off apathy, or dispel hate, whether we discuss with friends or participate in protest marches, we must do. We cannot pretend to be oblivious of the pain people are going through. Facile acceptance of a distressing situation just because it is not our state, is tantamount to compliance. It is selfish, irresponsible and immoral. And that is worse than apathy or hate.

A neighbor's light

 Sometimes just seeing lights in a neighbor's home can be immensely comforting. To know there is friend around. To know there is life going on at least a bit normally. To know that if the darkness does overwhelm you, you can walk to that light for comfort.

I am blessed with amazing people who live close to me - in both my homes. Late last night, as the lights went on next door, I was grateful for that simple sign of  'it's ok'. 

We underestimate how deeply the wellbeing of our neighbors is tied to ours. We share a small space of the earth, and that makes us one tribe, sharing the advantages and problems that are unique to that shared space. Physical proximity creates a bond that can be a strong source of support and happiness. In today's worried, frightened world, it is finally our tribe that makes all the difference. Family and friends will always have their place of unassailable importance in our lives, but the joy and serenity of having a good neighbor is priceless. 

I have been immensely fortunate in having friends for neighbors. I only hope I can reciprocate a modicum of the gladness they bring into my life.