Skip to main content

Tale- I

How often have you faced the crisis of tracing where your identity lies?

You may think I maybe fooling around but sir, let me remind you, it isn't as easy a question for the most of our likes.

The very first blog that I wrote was on my confusing identity ties,  I was not confident back then. I guess I had a long way to go when it came to owning one's identity. Today, I atleast have some answers.


Anecdote 1:

" In which language do you think", asked my friend.

I was taken back. Well at that very moment I was thinking in Assamese. 

"Oxomia", I replied.

"Well, do you speak Oxomia at home?" , she furrowed her glance in disbelief.

"No, we speak Nepali", I added. I was beginning to see the plathora of confusion rising in her wee head. I was beginning to enjoy it . I maintained my composure. I didn't want to make a fool out of myself.

"How come you speak Oxomia so well?" , she blurted out.

"Well, I am as much an Oxomia as you are. The only difference here is, I learnt Oxomia after I learnt to speak in Nepali", I defended.

 I was used to such questions and had long accepted the fact that no matter how much I tried ,some people would always have questions for me regarding my identity.

She didn't find my answers convincing. She kept on questioning about how could it be possible that I thought in one language whereas spoke in the other. I told her that I was bred in that way. I was taught the best of both cultures and thus I had alligience to both languages.

I told her that I was yet to find some answers and someday when I have found those, I would write to her.

Today, as I write this, I think some questions needn't have one singular answer. To many, my identity would be an open ended puzzle. To me, it defines who I am. I can't take the Nepali out of me nor can be without the Oxomia that resides in me. Thus, I may speak in one language and be comfortable in thinking with the other one.


There are more such tales, will write back soon.




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reading between the lines

"Read between the lines",  I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am,  would you please elaborate? ",  I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted  self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...
Post a Comment
Read more

What do you want to be?

While I was in my 10th standard, almost everyone I met wanted to know what I wanted to be. This question always perplexed me. From the lens of a fifteen year kid who was not yet sure of the changes which awaited in the near future, this question gave me nightmares. I would constantly sit by the mirror and ask myself, what actually would be my answer. My friends always had fancy answers at their disposal. They would confidently chirp whenever any one asked about it. What amused me most was, my friend who had no inkling to study Biology wanted to be a doctor and another friend who detested the idea of even cooking noodles, wanted to be a chef! But whenever they spoke about their wishes, they would always sound confident. And there I was, fumbling for words which refused to escape my lips. It was not until I entered Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya to do my plus two, I found my voice. The teachers there have a different way of viewing life. For the first time, I no longer felt the classroom...
2 comments
Read more

"My love is enough for both of us"

"My love is enough for both of us", she often felt those words ring in her heart. She finally had understood that life wouldn't always follow her designs. That people are meant to leave but their memories won't. She often had wondered how someone could love her to such an extent when that person had always known that she wouldn't reciprocate those feelings. How could a person stand by her when she always acted as a fleeting shadow. She never had given hope for she knew the pain of dejection but he kept hoping like a hopeless vagabond. How she wished that he would some day hate her enough to let go. She devised ways to free him from this web, she acted cold, turned indifferent, did everything he detested and she finally saw some changes. It was a relief, he finally seemed to take hold of his life. She could see him grow responsible. He finally it seemed was learning to love himself. Phone calls died, meetings subsided, they become known strangers. All this while ...
2 comments
Read more