ON THE VIRTUES OF SPEAKING INDIAN By Sumita Bhattacharya

Autumn crispness, red-gold leaves, pumpkin bread, Dusserah sweets, Diwali lights and the INDIA CENTER banquet - they all seem to work together to create a new sense of beginning, a new anticipation and a renewed commitment. This is the time of year I write a little piece for the INDIA CENTER souvenir and while it is a task I do with great pleasure, it also seems a good time to ponder some important issues concerning our community. One of those is, perhaps, the simultaneously innocent and loaded question, "Do you speak Indian at home?" Every Indian-American has been faced with this particular question at one point or another. At first it used to jar me. It invariably started me off on an on-the-spot crusade to raise awareness of the "infinite variety" that is the cornerstone of India's identity. I must have energetically embarked on many a prolonged discourse on India's EIGHTEEN "national" languages (latest figure, since the addition of Konkani, Manipuri and Nepali), India's hundreds upon hundreds of dialects (in fact, about 1,652, according to the latest census report), and the myriad customs, costumes and cuisine which create the uniquely Indian image. My enthusiastic, self-styled exposition would always be inspired by the fascinating kaleidoscope rotating before my own eyes. All the varied hues of the soil, the nuances of speech and dialect, the faces, names, cities would leap into animation, adding layer upon layer of depth to the incredible three-dimensional whirling in space. Of course, "Indian" was the obvious link to India, but oh, so limitless was its interpretation!

But that was then. Increasingly, now, the question has developed a life of its own. I have articulated it over and over, aloud and often, mulled over it and tasted it in its maturity, and I have to admit that the "question in question" has grown a tempting flavor of possibility. What if ……….? What if there were just one "Indian" language? Would that have made this task any easier, this long, twelve-year-old quest for building INDIA CENTER, for building a platform which we can all stand on together and claim as our equal inheritance? After all, if we all spoke only one "Indian" language and ate only one kind of "Indian" dinner, we would probably have had hundreds of more attendees at tonight's banquet. That would have translated to thousands of more dollars for our coffers. And, quite possibly, we would have been hosting tonight's event on our very own premises.

In the summer of 2000, I had attended a Bengali Conference in Atlantic City. The Bengalis of North America organize this cultural festival at different US locations, every year. One of the featured speakers that year was the internationally acclaimed Bengali actress and director, Aparna Sen. While riding the same elevator with her, we got into an informal discussion about the Indian-American lifestyle. She was curious as to why a considerable section of Indian-Americans only socialized with people from their home-state. One of the replies from a gentleman in the group was, "Because we are so starved of our own language and food during the work-week, that we look for ethnic indulgence during the weekend." Ethnic indulgence which feasts upon the mother-tongue and comfort foods. Well, of course, there can be nothing wrong with that, except it has to signify something more, in order to be progressive and true to its core.

Aparna Sen's query was the trigger in my life which underlined to me the enormous importance of preserving the Indian identity in its pristine glory. The glory born out of a strong network of convergence and coexistence, the glory radiating from unifying the different strands of thread which are woven into the finished Indian fabric, the powerful message encoded therein regarding the premium placed on tolerance and acceptance. Yes, speaking "Indian" has a charmed value we might all benefit from trying. It is not just the deliciously possible option, it is the only option, if we are to pull together as a strong, unified group. The other way will lead to a skewed and diminished perception of what it is to be an Indian. Interestingly, it took an Indian from India to point out to me the gaping hole that is so abundant amongst our Indian communities outside of India. Why are we doing this to ourselves? We were not raised to be so insular within India. Here, we either feel we are too independent to want to "cling" to our roots, or else, we feel we do not need to look beyond our own tiny regional group, because our nostalgia is sufficiently satisfied through those weekend parties. The truth is we have to put down roots here, in the welcoming American soil. We have to nurture those roots so we can battle our own alienation. And, we have to stand up and call attention to our community as a whole, so that our voices may trill with strength and unity, so that mainstream America may discover us and pay attention to us when we speak "Indian", and finally, because, in so doing, we might find out what an amazingly rewarding thing it is for us to do.

Something that I read recently which gave me insights into our life here, is Jhumpa Lahiri's latest novel, "The Namesake". Everything about it tells our story. The one disconcerting truth that hit me was that Gogol Ganguli's family socializes only with other Bengalis on Saturdays. Yet, if we look around, this is more or less what is happening regularly in Indian-America. We are getting more and more confined in our definition of ethnic identity. We are chiseling away at that magnificent concept of being Indian.

I grew up in a small town in West Bengal, called Durgapur. In the heart of Bengal, I had friends from all over the world, certainly not all Bengali. The reason we grew up so close to each other is because we had a common meeting place where it was easy to get together. Life at our Durgapur Club was pretty vibrant. It was the obvious destination for relaxed Sunday brunches, for swimming a few invigorating laps in the sparkling pool, for catching up with Hollywood twice a week, for browsing through Agatha Christies or Archie comics, for watching (and perhaps participating in) elaborate Pantomime productions during Christmas, for listening to Talat and Rafi (LIVE!), for watching local talents blossom and for sipping mango lassis and munching cheese pakoras. As we grew older, this is where we wore our trendy clothes, jammed at Jam Sessions and danced the night away at New Year's. Talk to anybody from Durgapur and, invariably, you will be privy to some shared sweet memory of THE CLUB. In fact, it always comes into focus whenever I dream of INDIA CENTER. Why is it so hard for us to have a fun place like that here in Westchester? People always caution us about being unrealistic about our expectations, about the daunting proposition of raising funds for a building. But I think we should always dare to hope. Our scariest enemy is apathy. When the acquaintance I meet at the Indian grocery store, a fellow compatriot, tells me that she will be unable to participate in the annual dinner, without ever asking me the date or the time, that scares me. How does one battle inertia? But I remind myself of the cause, and quickly recover. We have to wake up and band together and pool in our resources. We must not only be Biharis, Marathis, Tamilians, Punjabis, Gujarathis, Malayalis or Oriyas. We have to be all these and much more. Our individual colors have to shine and blend into the final totality of the mosaic. We will then be both more "Indian" and more "American" in spirit, because America is the one spot on earth which celebrates diversity, and India is the very embodiment of diversity. Let us make INDIA CENTER happen and happen soon. Everybody gains. We will bring all our individual languages and speak them all at the Center. We will make ourselves heard, not only on multicultural stages, but in the very corridors of Washington. The ground beneath our feet will feel firmer, because our hands will be linked together, locked in the firm grasp of friendship and unity. This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is my dream of the common Indian identity that is INDIA CENTER.