Should we have only Indian
associations and not Tamil Manrams
and Gujarati Sabhas? I believe that
such an idea is both unrealizable
and unnatural. Which brings one
to the question: are sub-national
identities in conflict with each
other or the larger Indian identity?
Am
I a Punjabi?
This
is a question that I am often asked.
Maybe it’s something about
my name, though I am a Prakash and
not a Parkash. Further, it is my
first name and not a family name.
But in this country I prefer not
to go into a longwinded explanation
about last, first and middle names
and accept whatever people think.
The factual answer to the question,
whether I am a Punjabi, is: “No,
I am not, I am a Kannadiga. Don’t
know what it is? Never mind. No.
I am not a Madrasi, though Karnataka
is in the South, too.” Quite
a mouthful of an answer.
Someone
hearing me say this at a public
forum the other day advised me and
asked me, “Why do you say
this? You should only say that I
am a proud Indian.” I told
him that my being an Indian was
pretty self-evident both to the
questioner and to me, and I had
no wish to sound grand or phony
or political. But all this, nevertheless,
set me thinking about the individual
and the identity.
The
subject of Indian identity and sub-identities
is fascinating as there is just
no other country which is so truly
multi-lingual, multi-religious,
multi-cultural, and any other multi
that you may care to think of, as
India. Unity in diversity is a cliché,
no doubt, but is also profoundly
true. In terms of size and demography,
the comparable countries are China
and the United States. They, too,
have a lot of diversity, but are
much more homogenous compared to
India. This is especially so if
you think of languages.
For
a professional diplomat like me,
this is an issue that has a bearing
on my work. As the Consul General
here in San Francisco, I do get
invited virtually every week to,
say, Kannada Koota from my country
cousins, the Onam occasion of the
Malayam Association, the Baisaki
Baithak of the Sikh community, the
annual day of the imaginatively
named RANA (the Rajasthan Association
of North America), the Dandiya dances
of the Gujarati parivar, and so
on.
I
rejoice in all these celebrations
and functions and attend the ones
that I can. No one can attend all,
which says something about the sheer
number of such regional, cultural,
and even religious associations
that are there. Doing so has been
a part of my professional life,
not only here but in other countries
as well, though the size, the sheer
variety and the relative affluence
of the Indian American community
here entails that the number and
scale of such festivities are staggering.
Do
such associations and congregations
undermine the larger Indian identity?
Should we have only Indian associations
and not Tamil Manrams and Gujarati
Sabhas? I believe that such an idea
is both unrealizable and unnatural.
Which brings one to the question:
are sub-national identities in conflict
with each other or the larger Indian
identity?
Let
me illustrate with my own experiences.
The Kannada Koota of California
had kindly invited me for Ugadi,
the Kannada New Year, in April.
(It is a curious fact of life that
different Indian communities celebrate
their ‘new years’ virtually
throughout the year.) I accepted
with alacrity and great pleasure
as, apart from anything else, it
was giving me a platform to speak
in Kannada before a large audience
after nearly three decades. Speaking
in my mother tongue, which I love
but do not use professionally, was
both a challenge and a pleasure.
Besides, the songs sung brought
back memories of my school days,
the skits about Bangalore evoked
a special knowing laughter, and
the bisi bele huli anna, a typically
Mysorean dish, was a rare treat.
In enjoying all this, not for a
moment did I think that I was any
less an Indian for taking pride
in the Kannada culture.
The
simple truth of the matter is, every
individual has multiple identities
and this is natural and can be non-contradictory.
Isn’t a software engineer
in the Silicon Valley at the same
time a son, a father, a lover, a
driver? Does he not have multiple
roles and identities which are all
natural?
Similarly,
say, a Mr. George Josef of Fremont
(not real, but my fictional character)
can be a Keralite, a Christian,
speak Bengali in addition to Malayalam
(having studied in Kolkata), a proud
IITian and, yes, an Indian at heart
and in deed. And be an American
citizen.
Amartya
Sen, the Nobel Prize winning economist,
is today one of the world’s
great liberal thinkers. In recent
reflections in books and articles,
he has pointed out that India would
not be India if these multiple identities
are not regarded as a part of our
heritage. Both history and geography
have made it so. Just think about
it. For centuries waves of diverse
cultures have impacted on India,
each leaving its mark. One can see
this in our architecture, music,
cuisine, and languages. Geographically,
in a country of a continental size
larger than Europe, it is natural
that there are different tongues
and tastes. Regional, ethnic and
religious identities bond millions
of people together and it would
be naïve to expect that such
bonds do not matter. And yet there
is an ‘idea of India,’
to borrow the title from Sunil Khilnani’s
book, which is distinctive and undeniable.
To
analyze this idea of India and to
map the patterns in plurality is
beyond my attempt here. But we can
use metaphors. Some Indian songs
evoke the image of a beautiful garden
in which all the flowers are distinct
and different, but the beauty and
the totality of the garden is more
than the collection of its plants.
A
more desi metaphor is that of Shashi
Tharoor, the author and UN diplomat.
He says that if America, with its
waves of immigration and assimilation,
is a melting pot of cultures –
different ethnicities, no doubt,
but all contributing to a khichdi
in the melting pot – India
is more like a thali with many smaller
bowls, or katoris. Each dish is
distinctive and delicious, can be
enjoyed separately, too, but as
they come together in the thali,
the feast is complete.
Here
in the West Coast, we rejoice in
‘fusion.’ We look at
the Pacific and face the Orient
even as the locale is the American
continent. It is a good place to
remember that to celebrate the spirit
of fusion is an integral part of
being Indian.
