Vidya vs. Vidya

I’m once again reminded of the total variability of what we tend to call identity. Dress, speech, mood, even behavior, are totally fluid and depend entirely on everything else. I guess this is what you’d call “structuralism” as per Barthes and Krauss..

Anyway, I am made acutely aware here that I am American (less in my own feeling than in the way others see me), whereas in America, I’m the Indian. What’s more interesting is the way I respond to the way I think people see me. Someone in the cafeteria this week pointed to the saunf (fennel seed, chewed as a mouth freshener) and asked me if I knew what to do with it. I said, “Yes,” but I was thinking, “No, can you tie my shoes for me, too?” I resist being labeled as one or the other. If someone says I’m American, I want to assert that I’m also Indian. If someone calls me Indian, I want to remind them that I am just as much American. In truth, I’m neither. I belong to a crossbreed of first generation Americans. In many ways, we’re extremely privileged. First and foremost, with perspective. We get to see both worlds. And we get the choice. That’s second: the ability to pick and choose a la carte which values we value. And we can leave behind the ones we think will hold us back. Our choices are largely dependent upon which opposing values (from East and West) we can manage to reconcile. Because growing up is not easy when at home you hear one thing and at school another. At the end of the day, you realize that some (very very few) things are universal, but most are circumstantial. A society’s attitude toward cleanliness, relationships, education, food, sex, and even its very notion of respect are all conventional. None of these comes from gospel. For example, women in America wear shorts. People are used to seeing this. Women here do not. People here are not. That’s it; there is nothing more to it. (Of course, the wise woman is aware of conventions and is conscious when she is breaking them.)

I often find my uncle pointing out when we do things differently that it is because I’m American and he is Indian. Clearly, this is not always the case. In fact, it is very difficult to generalize what an American is in the first place. Americans come from everywhere..when you find an American with any particular quality, expect to find another with the exact opposite – sometimes even next door. It’s really very fitting that I am reading (the last chapter) of Yogananda’s Autobiography. (For those of you don’t know, he was an Indian monk who made a divine journey to the West in the early 20th century to share India’s spiritual wealth.) In fact, he published a magazine called East-West. I think he understood better than anyone just how much the two could learn from one another. I feel very lucky to be able to sit at this juncture and observe my two families. So many doors are open to me.