Force-Feeding

Remember that old doll you had when you were younger? The one you fed copious amounts of fake (sometimes real) food and water to, fully knowing that the doll didn't actually need or was digesting it? That same doll that you knew didn't have the option to protest against the force-feeding, so you did it anyway because it made you feel like you were taking good care of someone? Well, I think I can accurately imagine and assume that the doll's experience must be something quite similar to having an Indian grandmother, except it's always real food. 

A typical meal-time conversation between me and my grandmother (ammama) goes something like this:

Ammama: "Raaga, are you still hungry, do you want more food?"

Me: "No ammama, thank you, I'm so full. I can't eat another bite."

Ammama: "Ok ok, I'll give you some more."

She then proceeds to pile another huge man-sized portion on my plate, fully expecting me to finish eating it all. I've learned to never leave the table for anything during a meal because when I return there will always be more food on my plate than there was when I left. Her philosophy is that if a plate is empty, it means the owner inevitably enjoyed their meal, and therefore must eat more, regardless of how much a human stomach can hold. 

"Raaga, stop being silly, you'll starve!" she'll say when she senses that I'm reluctant to eat more, or if I protest against her serving portions. When I beg her to stop piling food onto my plate, she slowly glances upward at me with an upset expression that sends an enormous and unstoppable wave of guilt crashing over my body. I immediately stop talking and watch helplessly as she continues to serve me more. She has that trick perfected. 

I sometimes look desperately towards my grandfather (thatha) for back-up in my pleading, but he just shrugs apologetically, tells me he is probably less influential in the matter than I am, that it is "the Indian way", and that I should just let it happen.

Sigh. I'm sensing the upcoming need for additional workouts, morning runs, and stretchy pants in the near future.

Indian Air

As I stepped off the plane on to my homeland, the warm, humid, and nostalgic air of India filled my lungs. Despite the pollution and the stench of a nearby garbage bin, I welcomed the smell eagerly as I held up the line up of passengers waiting to leave the airport to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I am home.

After joining my aunt and uncle (athai and mama)  and hopping into a taxi to go to their beautiful Bangalore apartment, I started to think about the true essence of the place I was in. What do I take in and feel when I breathe Indian air?

I feel pride; the pride of people who know their strength and potential as a culture and a nation. I feel courage; the courage of people who face the hardships of daily life head on to do what they have to do. I feel determination; the determination of people who work hard to provide, survive, and contribute. I feel love; an unconditional love that people have for their families, friends and neighbors.

But, I also take in corruption; corruption that taints almost every business deal and social interaction on the street. I feel fear; the fear of people who don't know where their next meal or pay will come from. I feel hopelessness; a hopelessness that comes from not knowing if a change in lifestyle or happiness will ever come.

In returning to India after so many years, I have been pondering over the thought of how I should perceive and feel about my birth place and home country. As a student of International Relations, Peace and Conflict and Global Equity, I have returned with many new and different perspectives on the world around me. But as a girl who has always been very proud of where she is from and upheld India with all her heart, is it right for me to now recognize, acknowledge and think about the many things that are wrong with this place? On the other hand, as an aspiring humanitarian and a youth planning to make a change in the future on the international front, is it not my obligation and responsibility to think of such things?

As a child, India was merely a land of adventure, family time, potential friends, and good food for me. Now, although it still holds a similar prospect of adventure, my energies seem to be re-directed into truly trying to grasp an understanding of how the culture and nature of the people of India play a role in the country's place in the world, and how a change might be brought about to make it a better place to live and grow for current and future generations.

Although at some point it felt like a betrayal to be thinking about India's dark side rather than parading the streets and exclaiming my joy of being back on beautiful home soil, I understand now that it is precisely my love and appreciation of this country that will enable me with strength and passion to fight for change here and around the world in my future. While I prepare for that adventure to get on its way, I'm going to soak up all the Indian air that I can.