"I’ve always found it strange yet heartwarming that in a foreign land, Indians mesh together and open their hearts, overcoming the same lines that separate us back home. "https://t.co/OSbV4vG3M4
— India Outbound (@india_outbound) June 13, 2019
“I want to influence my three children (age 14, 19, 23) to have a connection with India, but how is that possible, if I myself do not have a relationship with India?"https://t.co/vswjAOfdy8
— India Outbound (@india_outbound) June 13, 2019
"The meta lessons from the trials of India’s elite institutions expose the stark divergence between the rule of law in practice and on paper. The harsh truth is that politicians are often swayed by power and tempted by the prospect of control."https://t.co/4HIcx1Gofb
— India Outbound (@india_outbound) June 13, 2019
Whath made foreign policy analyst C. Raja Mohan suggest that Modi’s foreign policy has been “revolutionary”?https://t.co/eaQMk5JlNs
— India Outbound (@india_outbound) June 13, 2019
"Following the United States and Germany, India continues to be the third largest source for FDI into the UK in 2019."https://t.co/rUjyiZptM5
— India Outbound (@india_outbound) June 13, 2019
India is erupting in a chaos of identity. News headlines streaming out of the country highlight divides along caste, community, clans and religions, making us wonder if there is anything that we truly can call Indian.
Those who’ve spent large phases of their lives outside India have the added dilemma of national identity. I’ve always found it strange yet heartwarming that in a foreign land, Indians mesh together and open their hearts, overcoming the same lines that separate us back home. When faced with the uncertainties of a foreign culture, we possess the humane capacity to seek out connection over commonalities and approach our differences with curiosity.
Winston Churchill once referred to India as “merely a geographical expression.” Indian history is littered with examples of diverse cultures, religions and communities co-mingling at times with mild disturbances and sometimes through the turmoil of violence. Fareed Zakaria, in his essay on “The rediscovery of India,” says that we have always existed as a “loose confederation” for much of history so much so that even when single rulers held dominion, they did so by sharing it with “vassals” and “letting local traditions flourish.” This therefore begs the question, is there a cohesive idea of what it means to be India? Who or what is being Indian?
Whenever I’m asked where I’m from, I find myself struggling to provide a succinct yet honest answer. It is hard to judge what the questioner is really pushing to know. Do they mean where I live, perhaps where I was born, which ethnicity I belong to or some variation of all three. I have no simple answers for any of these and I believe that’s the parallel of the global Indian diaspora.
It would be unfair to delve into the tangled web of my identity as an Indian without sifting through the sands of my family’s past.My heritage is a long drawn out love affair with the glorious complexities of India. I’m a Tamilian from Kerala, which means my ancestors travelled thousands of kilometers from the border villages of Tamil Nadu into Kerala looking for better economic prospects. That made us uniquely bilingual, speaking a language that effortlessly mixed both Tamil and Malayalam but it also for generations henceforth, made us a clan of vagabonds who didn’t really fit into either state. So, we remain conspicuous in our difference as “Palakkad Tamilians,” perpetually straddling two states.
My parents however, each grew up outside of South India, spending time in Mumbai, Nagpur and Kolkata. This imbibed in them a more pan-India feel as they spoke both their mother tongue and also languages of the cities they were in. My mother spoke six languages and my father three. My parents were never quintessentially South Indian. My father given a choice would belt out a Kishore Kumar song before MS Subbulaxmi’s and mother felt at equal ease with both DurgoPoojo and Onam. Yet, they were South Indian in their soul and in their approach to life’s simplicities. It was into this mixed concoction of identity trails that I was born.
From an early age, I could sense my parents’ ambivalence about where they belonged.They were equally comfortable with Maharashtrians and Tamilians, yet somehow, they weren’t either. I inherited this confusion and only confounded it.
I was raised in both Oman and the UAE. Gulf countries have a huge expatriate population with Indians constituting the largest in the 90s. For us, it felt like another state in India but with better infrastructure and standardof living. Oman was a wonderful place to grow up in, for it retained a certain humility that the neighboring, flashier countries didn’t. The Sultan had studied in Pune and therefore had a soft corner for Indians. He was also very secular so there were several places of worship constructed to make the Indian community feel belonged. My parents found a lot of solace at the temples. It was a weekend ritual for us, like several families, to first attend the Krishna temple, followed by Shiva’s. Like clockwork we would see vehicles arrive at the parking lot and the same families, week after week, descend upon the altar to strive for some semblance of what community felt like back home in India. We laughed and played and sang and prayed within the intricately carved walls of the temples, but the longing for the security of home always hung in the air like a grey cloud.
The Middle East is unique because we’re never afforded citizenship yet we spend decades calling it our home. Some of my friends were born in either Muscat or Dubai, yet were legally always Indian. It’s a strange dichotomy. Our parents always lived in the shadow of uncertainty in these countries yet, it was where we continued to build our lives. When my parents moved to the United Arab Emirates, it was a culture shock for me. People here were more modern and abreast with the global pop-culture than in Oman. I was branded as too Indian amongst my classmates in my new school and I’d spend the next seven years trying to overcome that tag. It was ironical that at an Indian school, where we primarily studied Indian history and culture,what was required to be accepted was shedding my Indian-ness. Western themes dominated arts and extra-curriculars, which made our school stand out like a shining beacon amongst all the other Indian schools. These actions only deepened the divide in my formative Indian mind.
Since the expatriate population was transient, the education system didn’t really allow for inter-mingling among the varied communities. We lived parallel lives in silos; Indians, Pakistanis, Lebanese, Syrians,British and Americans living in our own organically formed areas and attending schools made for our nationalities. Although we didn’t’ get to interact with them very closely, we were aware of each others’ presence and this exacerbated the need to want to move beyond the identities of being Indian.
It was a common theme for friends to visit their extended families in India but complain about the facilities and how far behind they were in their global awareness. For some reason, I always felt welcomed and at peace more in India, in my grandparents’ home than I ever did in Dubai. Perhaps it was the simplicity of the culture at that time. Pre-liberalisation India was immune to the over capitalistic demands of the West and there a palpable sense of contentment amongst majority of middle class, who found joys in their community. To my child’s brain, it looked like happiness. Even our TV shows in the 90’s reflected the trend of the common man(woman) finding simple pleasures through human connections in an otherwise seemingly complex world. In the Middle East, I always felt detached.
Moving to the UK for my undergrad was an expansive experience yet it also made me acutely aware of my sudden minority status. I wasn’t a second generation British Indian, nor was I strictly an Indian bred in the Motherland. I was an in-between waif trying to establish my identity, by feeling my way through all shades of Indian-ness. Finally, I realised that I was such an entanglement of global and Indian, that all efforts of parsing the two were futile.
I cherish my global perspective and the broadening of my mindsets through my exposure to multiple cultures, situations and lifestyles. It has made me a seeker of experiences that constantly shatter my beliefs and opens me to new learnings. However, my spirit remains deeply rooted in India and all its messiness. It’s in India that I feel most belonged, where I have no question of whether I am accepted or not. It’s where I’ve lived for the better part of the last decade, save a few years in Boston in between.Of course, I am conscious of the privilege afforded to me in terms of my economic status, which plenty of people belonging to minority communities donot have. Perhaps, it is this very privilege that keeps drawing me back here because in India I’m at the top of the pecking order. It’s also where I want to contribute the most.
So, to come back to my initial question of what it means to be an Indian, as an NRI, I’d say it is a feeling.It’s the fluttering of our hearts when we hear the National Anthem, or the euphoria of seeing Tendulkar hit a sixer out of the Lord’s stadium or the thrill of seeing ISRO launch its own satellite. India is the warmth that flows from all corners of the world as volunteers set up shelters and rescue operations in the flood-ridden state of Kerala. I was recently at the Wagah Border where the theatrical display of valor and national pride are at their hyperbolic best, achieved primarily through the unabashed use of chants, slogans and patriotic songs. We are, it seems a people of exaggerated feelings.
To me, India is an emotion that stays wrapped in the distant corners of our mind and unfurls at the faintest trigger of belonging. Being Indian therefore, is just an expression of that emotion.
Bridge India
June 12, 2019
Stories are powerful. Values, culture, morals and tradition are communicated through stories. Stories capture our imagination and can inspire change. In this section, I draw on three real stories to illustrate personal experiences of British-Indians who have engaged with India through service, the broader impact this has led toand lessons we can draw out to move forward. By creating more such authentic journeys, we have the ability to create a new rite of passage for the next generation of British-Indians.
“It’s given me a sense of purpose”
Anand is now studying Economics at one of the top 10 UK universities and aspires for a career through which he is intellectually challenged. He grew up in a non-ethnic, middle class area of the UK, which was very far from regular Indian community activities. Anand grew up in a tight knit family that practiced Indian customs and traditions in their home. At the age of 17, he participated in a 12-day programme that took him to India, where he interacted with inspiring change-makers; he spent time with chai walas, farmers and children in slums.
He said on his return, “It’s given me an insight into my father’s childhood. Although they were unfamiliar, I felt connected to the people I met there and what I experienced has pushed me to think harder about global issues and to look within myself and understand the journey I want to pursue. It’s given me a sense of purpose to do more with my future.” Anand said that his experience in India inspired him to develop a social enterprise that addresses the issues of food waste and homelessness, while at University. This was only his second visit to India. He was with his peers with whom he could share and reflect on his experiences.
A key insight to draw from this example is the need to plant seeds during these formative years. Facilitated visits such as this one, have the potential to shape how these young people see the world and their role in it.
“Sentiment can be used to jumpstart a deeper exploration”
Laxmi sought to feel closer to her grandfather, whose roots were in India. Community service was a central practice of his life, so volunteering felt like a way to understand both him and herself better. Laxmi served with an NGO that worked with children who were boot polishing, rag picking and begging out of the necessity to provide income for their families. Laxmi came away from her experience with a deep sense of responsibility towards the efforts of the NGO and believed that physical distance shouldn’t be a barrier to support their work. She went on to start a UK-based social enterprise to retail the products made by these children and others that work with similar ethos and values. This effort serves as a way to open a global market for these products, while also connecting the lives of those children to people in the UK. As part of her community activities in the UK, she mentored a 20-year old through a youth leadership programme. It was through this that she inspired him to explore his relationship to India, one which he had not considered before.
A key insight to draw here is that sentiment can be used to jumpstart a deeper exploration for one’s relationship to India. The ripple effect of a single person’s experience will inspire others.
“Exchanging skills and time through service”
Gibran, qualified as an architect and was accepted to a fellowship programme, through which he served with an NGO in Tamil Nadu to rebuild housing in communities affected by the 2004 tsunami. Inspired by his experience, he stayed on in India to work with a Kutch-based NGO, supporting slum communities, to build affordable housing. Through his experience, he was called to advise international development NGOs in Nepal and Pakistan, after they were hit by earthquakes. He now works for the UK Government to find solutions to the challenges of urban slums around the world. Rather than seeingtime in India as a gap year, time spent constructively working on complex social issues has the potential to fundamentally shift a person’s career trajectory.
A key insight here is that when people utilise their skills towards a shared goal with the local community, there is mutual benefit, which builds a deeper more equal connection.
A Call to Action
We are at a critical inflection point for the British-Indian community’s connection to India. As the stories of those Indians that came to the UK in the late 1960’s start to fade, we must look ahead to where the new stories connecting us to India will come from and what they will entail. The children born to British-Indians, who have lived their whole lives in the UK, will have even more distant ideas of India. There are other 5th generation Indian diaspora groups such as Dutch-Indians, Guyanese-Indians and many more we can look towards to see the direction the British-Indian relationship with India may take if we do not act now.
India has a vibrant social sector, which spans from faith-based charities to innovative technology led social businesses. There are dynamic people at each turn, whose sheer determination demonstrates the strength of human will, to shift how we look at an issue as somebody else’s problem or a challenge that we can help to address. Being exposed to this is both humbling and empowering. The NGO sector in India needs more than just foreign remittances. By connecting young people through direct service, they will build a far deeper connection, which will likely result in them being advocates of this work when they return to the UK.
We require foresight. When initiating any new programmes, we must keep at the forefront of our mind the British-Indian children who are growing up. When they reach the age of 16, will they have the opportunities or desire to build their own relationship with India, grounded in their own experience? It will take at least six years to design and mature programmes that will enable these youth to connect to India in ways that will embrace the diversity of their aspirations. By having a clear focus on building ways for those between the ages of 16-26, we will be able to positively influence them in their formative years.
To achieve this, we must continue to ask searching questions and we must listen to young British-Indians of today. This is not an academic exercise or words left behind in a conference. There is so much more to understand about the British-Indian relationship to India, however, we must act with urgency. We must build a deeper understanding of how they experience the world, their aspirations and together start to shape what this future relationship with India looks like.
Bridge India
June 11, 2019
