Tag: diaspora

The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

#Book Review
Fiction| Diaspora| Family| Culture
Rating: 4.5

Sometimes I feel like the book chooses me rather me choosing it and The Namesake is one such book that precisely resonates with my current state of mind. A diasporic feeling of not belonging anywhere, a feeling of an identity crisis, and confused decisions. Jhumpa Lahiri in the Namesake perfectly captures the immigrant experiences and emotional turmoil of leaving behind your motherland, your families, and childhood friends to start a new life in a new country. 

This big move is a process of experiencing happy times, difficult times, and questionable times, which often involve uncertainty and fear. And of course, there’s always hope of things getting better as time passes. But there is never a time when we stop wondering “Was this the right decision?” 

Despite these numerous feelings, Ashima in the Namesake tries her best to adopt to the American lifestyle with her husband Ashoke. The Ganguli family makes new friends (Indian friends), spends weekends together and builds new bonds. They give birth to two kids, Gogol and Sonia. Ashima terribly misses her family when their son is born. She waits for years for her grandmother to send her a telegram naming the baby as it has been their age-old tradition. But when there’s no response, Gogol becomes the official name of their son.

The story progresses onto the lives of the kids and the vacations that they take – which is most of the time to India for festivals, for the loss of loved ones, for spending time with the family, or to stay connected to the familiarity of their culture and traditions. Gogol and Sonia find all of it hard to relate. But as they grow old, Gogol realizes the hardships that their parents had to face upon uprooting their life and leaving behind their family which he thinks is something that is impossible for him to do.

The Namesake is not story with a beginning or an end, it is an experience. A family that I got to know in a few pages of this book. I can see myself getting to know the Ganguli family if I ever lived on Pemberton Road, going through the same feelings of loneliness and trying to stay together and creating a mini India just to feel at home. Just to have that sense of familiarity and comfort. As I complete reading this book on my return flight from India to Pennsylvania, I fondly close the book and my eyes with a warm feeling, processing the emotions, and remembering all the times that I spent with my loved ones. I take these memories along to a new country that I now call my home. 

PS: The Namesake is a winner of the Pulitzer Prize. It’s very well-written and has an intriguing story that immigrants as well as non-immigrants will certainly find interesting to read. A definite must-read, I highly recommend!

Relatable Quotes #1

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ Leave a comment

You don’t really know how attached you are until you move away, until you’ve experienced what it means to be dislodged, a cork floating on the ocean of another place.

Michelle Obama.

Isn’t it true? We all must have experienced this at some point in our lives. It’s always exciting to move to a new country but who knew I would miss my home, India, so much. I sure do feel like a cork floating on foreign waters.

The Outsider

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ 2 Comments

You think you belong to the land in which you were born,
Then, why have I felt so alone and wrong?
Like an outsider.
I’ve never felt at peace at home.
When I walked on the crowded streets,
I wished to go unnoticed.
Always hiding.
Always so angry with everything around me.
Always seeking a door,
To take me away from the miseries of this world.
Running, looking for an escape.
Running after change.

When I finally found it, I grabbed it with both my hands.
Leaving behind my home.
Unthinkingly in desperation.
I needed it so badly.

Of course, I was afraid!
Change is not easy.
But, my homeland has taught me to be brave.
All those years spent in fighting
Has given me strength to adapt to change.

When I opened my eyes to a new world,
I asked myself, “Is this paradise?”
Clear blue skies, lush green lands as far as the eye can see.
Filling me with a sense of serenity.

As time flies,
Slowly the feeling of awe subsides.
Overwhelming emotions started to consume me.
I looked around for familiar faces,
But, there was nowhere to hide.
I realised, I am the only outsider.
How do I begin again?

But, my homeland reminds me.
Never succumb to feelings of dread.
Overcome and be brave.
You have always been an outsider.
Running after change.

Cluster

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ 2 Comments

There is hardly anything new left for me to see outside my window. The trees stand calmly as always, clustered together. Sometimes still, sometimes swaying with the wind.

The lawn is green and beautiful. Now and then, I see people on it who bring their dogs out for a walk. The streets are empty, mostly parked cars. There is just a driveway in my community. My community is wonderful but it is also very quiet and can sometimes be boring.

Earlier, I used to get excited looking at the different varieties of birds outside my window. I still do, but they haven’t become my friends yet! Like I said, life here is calm and quiet. Just what I had always dreamed of.. but do we really know what we want?

Today, I had an urge to peep into the houses of my neighbours. Just for a change, to see what other people are up to.. What are they cooking? What are they wearing? Which show is running on their TV? Did I just hear someone arguing? Are the children up to some mischief?

These silly things which I took for granted and found annoying back in India are the things that I often miss. I look outside my window and find trees clustered together. Back home, my family, friends, and neighbours were the clustered trees. Together. Now I wonder, what I am doing here away from my tribe? Where is my cluster?

Photo by Secret Garden on Pexels.com

Distant Together

~ Nuraine Sadaf ~ 8 Comments

At the crack of dawn, far across the river, Ahiya can sense the microphone turning on in a mosque near her village. Within seconds the Azaan will start, the early morning call to prayer.

She lightly rubs her eyes and leaps out of bed. It’s Eid today!

Ahiya goes out of her bedroom cheerfully, half expecting to see her parents in the living area. She gives herself a low-spirited smile when she finds no one in the house. It was her decision to move to a new country, not theirs.

She has set up a cozy home for herself in a faraway Western land. All her life, she was told to educate herself and be successful. Success was to move to a first world country to fulfill your dreams. This was considered to be the ultimate achievement in life. People who get a job and move to the West were revered by families in her home town.

Ahiya grew up with the same dreams and hopes that some day, she will make herself and her family proud by chasing those dreams. Now, her dreams have come true. Then, why is she not happy? Nobody told her that life would never be the same. Nobody told her that the sense of belonging would be lost. Nobody told her how lonely she would feel and that she would be thousands of miles away from her family.

Ahiya shakes her head and dismisses away the thoughts. Today the distance will not come in her way of celebrating one of her most favorite festivals. Eid is the day on which loved ones come together to pray and embrace each other. It is the day of charity, of being grateful, and of forgiveness. Also of course, it is the day of feasting on exquisite, delicious food.

Enthusiastically, Ahiya starts prepping for the day while eating her morning oatmeal. She glides through the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients that she will need for today’s elaborate feast. She turns on the radio, listens to songs and starts chopping vegetables recalling the pleasant childhood memories.

There is always incessant chatter and sound of music in the air during Eid in her hometown. Kids run around the house, grandparents talk loudly on the phones wishing relatives, ma is always busy in the kitchen preparing multiple dishes, and baba does all the other house chores while also entertaining and taking care of the children. In the background, the tape recorder fills the air with music from Sabri Brothers and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

Ahiya’s fond memory of this day is peeling off mehendi from her palms. The first thing to do on every morning of Eid. A curiosity to find out how dark the color of the mehendi on her palm has turned out to be. Once all the mehendi flakes were off, she rubbed coconut oil on her palms and went up running to her amma and baba to show them her orange-colored palms. More than the color she enjoyed watching their faces light up with pride and joy.

Back in the kitchen, Ahiya hums along with the songs on the radio and marinates the chicken, roasts dry fruits in ghee for the dessert, and grinds spices in a mortal pestle. The rising aromas in the kitchen leave her grinning from ear to ear. Light on her feet, Ahiya is focused on getting all the flavours right.

After spending hours in the kitchen, Ahiya finally steps out feeling like a conqueror and rushes for a quick shower. She offers her Eid ki namaz, filled with gratitude and thanks the Lord for all His blessings.

It is time to set up the dining table with the lavish food, Chicken Dum Biryani, Kheema Kababs, Harira, Sheer Khurma, and Phirni. Ahiya dresses up in a traditional lehenga and kurti and sits down on the dining table to video call her parents.

“Eid Mubarak!” she says and beams happily upon seeing their loving, smiling faces. Excitedly she narrates the stories of her day and patiently listens to theirs. An hour long conversation and greetings leave Ahiya content.

Blissful.