Coming Home

Being a third culture kid is a true privilege. But there's no denying that a lack of belonging and cultural shame tend to latch on to that global mindset.

I was born into a Hindu family in the small island city of Singapore. And at the age of 7, I was sent off to Kobe, Japan to live and be raised by my grandparents.

Not knowing a word of Japanese, I was thrown into a Japanese-medium elementary school in 4th grade. I was the only non-Japanese ("alien") kid in the entire school. Surprisingly, I was rarely bullied and often feel sweet nostalgia for those years at 美野丘小学校(Minooka Elementary School).

However, something deeply unconscious was occurring at that time. And it took me only 15 years to uncover what it was.

My Indian identity.

I buried it.

I denied it.

I was ashamed of it.

I guess I was really trying to fit in, and of course I couldn't change the color of my skin. So the only other thing I could do was psychologically strip myself of being Indian.

I stopped watching, dancing, and listening to Bollywood. I threw tantrums when I was forced to eat home-made Gujarati food, and I told my family early on that "I'm definitely NOT marrying an Indian dude". Instead, I had my heart and eyes set on a Japanese guy.

So, I obsessively entered into the world of being a 日本人 (Japanese): reading mangas, watching dramas, becoming a fan girl of the biggest boy-band 嵐 (Arashi), and even stepping away from my life as a vegetarian to truly live and eat as a Japanese.

I was only 10-years-old.

When I could no longer speak English fluently, my mom decided to transfer me to an international school in Kobe. It was a totally foreign experience because there were kids from all over the world and I wasn't used to that. So I naturally gravitated to the Japanese students, purposely avoiding all the Indian kids because I did not want to get looped into that category.

Even when I went to college in Boston, Massachusetts I told myself: "don't loop yourself in with the Indian kids!" going out of my way to make friends with people who did not share my cultural background. It was only until I got to graduate school in San Francisco, California in 2019 that I came face-to-face with this deep shadow.

I met @abeerdesai, the love of my life.

And yes, he's 100% Indian :)

Abeer and I quickly became good friends, and within 3 months of knowing each other we entered into a romantic relationship.

I think I even I told him earlier on that I wouldn't marry an Indian guy...

We're getting married next February.

Oh life's ironic humor!

So how did Abeer unleash this big big shadow of mine?

He made me watch the 1982 film Gandhi. I was in tears.

All those years of conditioning shattered before my eyes.

I couldn't believe what India had to go through in order to attain its freedom.

All that love, poetry, beauty, non-violence...

Everything I was seeking in my life, my motherland was reflecting back to me.

The film was a baptism, a resurrection really.

My love, Abeer, came into my life to bring me back home.

I've cried many times now because of the guilt I feel for neglecting this side of myself, and for shaming the profound beauty of my own culture.

I'm still working through it.

But now... I love being Indian.

I am so proud of being Indian.

And I cannot wait to return to India after 10 years next February, to enter into sacred marriage with my Indian guy.

Life just keeps on giving.

I am grateful.

Happy Diwali to all.

May darkness be touched by the beauty of light.