I lost my identity

This time when I went home, the truth struck me. It is not as if I were never aware of the feeling. But the truth is that now I feel more that I can never call myself a Thoothukkudi boy or for that matter one of any other place. I was at a local theatre watching “Sandaikozhi” for Meera Jasmine. As I listened to the talk of the others, I felt lost. I have lost all sense of belonging. After almost eight-and-a-half years of living out, I feel robbed of an identity. I can never be a Madras guy. I retain little of that Madrasiness. My little cousin teases me every time I call Abi “e pillai” and we tease her every time she uses “dhoda” to call her brother. In one of these(should it be our?) classes, the professor asked, “Who are from Bangalore?” My hand went up reflexively. But I can never be a Bengaluru huduga.

It seems to be a trivial issue. But with all the globalisation talk (we have an interesting course called International Business this term), I am getting more and more in between and nowhere in particular. As I spoke about this to one of my friends here, he talked about living for others and how as the cream of the country (don’t I get tired of this term having heard it first at CEG as the cream of the state?), our aspirations and lifestyle change much to the chagrin of those around us. Both of us remain small town boys and wondered what effect the actions of others have had on us. In a posh city like Bangalore, you spend above 100Rs. on a meal and your parents ponder over if they have brought you up right. In an elite institution, your peers do a whole set of things and you sometimes feel guilty if you do not do as the others do. I have often done things by myself so much to be accused of remaining cold or selfish. My small heart says if you do things dictated by the others’ whims, you stop living. As long as my actions do not affect others, I am free to live with my idiosyncracies. The key to one’s actions is finding a purpose or passion to do something. When I find that, I will care less about any thing else. I am already off the topic of the post.

Should I be bothered about the loss of my identity? In spite of the efforts of my Thatha, I never had an affinity for our caste. It is yet another useless gift of our society. As we go further into the new century, the proportion of people losing their identities will grow at an exponential rate. There will be a time when this ratio will be so high that one will no longer call himself Indian or Tamilian or Thoothukudikaran. I will be a child of the world or a global kid as B-school lingo shall say. Waiting for those times…