A cultural crisis among Gujaratis in the US

The identity crisis among the Non-Resident Indians is nothing but a manifestation of the feelings of being cut-off from the comforting shelter of their native society.

From this seed, springs forth an uneasiness a non-resident's real identity, what is he/she- an Indian or an American? This is not the only trouble.

The crisis haunts in lesser intensity highly-qualified information technologists like Tilak Mysore, or management people like Rutu Dave, social scientist like prof Pravin Sheth, Dr C Mohan, a top scientist with IBM, all in the Silicon Valley's hub San Jose.

In older outposts like Bakersfield, where Gujarati motels have been there for ages, the cultural crisis is the same. More intensely-hit are people like Harendra Rawat, a self-made marketing man who came to the US some 30 years ago, or Bina Bhatt who came here a decade ago.

Rawat is so much in India mentally that he refuses to touch anything made in Pakistan. His friend and Bina's husband, computer specialist Raj Patel spent hardly eight months after being born in Gujarat, speaks no Hindi and a smattering of Gujarati. Yet, he has Gujarati taste buds intact and loves hot chili in his food.

All of them have India pulsating in their hearts and minds. They stand erect, eyes moist, when the tri-colour flutters in the sky, their leaps essaying Jan Gan Man.

The Gujarati motelians rub shoulders with the higher income groups of IT crowd and doctors, in jointly watering their Indian roots.

The get together at the temple, which houses several gods under the same dome. There are two pujaris, a Tirupati Brahmin who came here for hotter weather from Cleveland in Ohio, and the other a Gujarati who shifted himself from less prosperous Fiji.

The devotees have equally diverse vocations. While Sujata and her husband, Kirit Desai are reputed doctors, Pradeep Patel and Nayna are specialists in home-delivered grocery of Indian specialities.

Pradeep is a singer of note who is in good demand. But, he is not the one to sit back and enjoy." I have my son and daughter studying to become doctors and must earn more." He and his wife, Nayna operate from Taft, reaching goods to far-off places. 

They all have gone away from India physically, but would not allow India to leave their heart.

A deeper alienation haunts them. Like Vishwamitra, they had thought they would be in a new paradise but suspect they have become Trishanku, neither here nor there.

What is worse that the first generation NRIs who came to the US and the second generation born in the  US fight different identity crises.

The first generation NRIs are aware of their origins and believe whole-heartedly that they are Indians first. They are adjusting to American way, but are more comfortable with dal, rice and curry than with pitza and pasta.

They will resonate with devotion when Vibha and Rasbihari Desai launch into the superb Avinash Vyas copmposition, Maadi Tarun Kanku Kharyun ne Suraj Ugyo.

They will weep copiously when Pankaj Udhas sings chiththi ayee hai, vatan se....They will march proudly and hum patriotic songs with moist eyes, applaud wildly when Sachin Tendulkar sends a Pakistani  bowler's delivery soaring into the sky for a massive six and cry when they watch terrorist mow down innocent people in Mumbai or Gandhinagar.

The first generation has its heart beating for India.    

(to be continued)

(The writer is a Ahmedabad-based retired journalist)