That's so desi!

A while back, I was wasting time with one of my colleagues, the way I do on a regular basis, and I realized something infuriating...

Colleague #1: "blah blah blah...desi...blah blah blah..."
Me: (hyena laugh) "Really?" (continue hyena laugh)
Colleague #2: "What did you say?"
Colleague #1: "Oh, desi?...it means...something like..."
Me: "from the country..."
Colleague #1: "It's what we call people from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh."
Colleague #2: "Is it a kind of insult?"
Me: "What??"
Colleague #1: "No..."
Colleague #2: "The kids use it..."
Me: "..as an insult?"
Colleague #2: "Well, like once, my computer fell and [John Doe] said it's so desi...I thought it was an insult.."
Me #1: "Oh my god!"

This was the same guy who titled one of his assignments "Algebra for Desis" (a play on Algebra for Dummies)

...and here's what's wrong with that...

Let me start by stating that I'm not 100% made out of pure desi ghee but I am, to a great part, a bootleg version of that ghee. Regardless, I have a HUGE, HUMONGOUS, pull-out-my-hair, cry-in-anger response to people who use "desi" as an insult: something like "yeah, I hate it when desi's do that..." or "yeah, that's how desi's are..." Now, one would assume that the person stating this is excluding themselves from this lazily-made generalization. Therefore, had these comments originated from an Arab, an African American or an English person, one would write it off as a racist comment made by unintelligible minds but how, please tell me, should one react when these are made by desi people themselves (as was the case in this instance)? What is the proper way of addressing this personification of an oxymoron when the moron, itself, is the desi making this statement?

Now, I admit. Desis are not perfect. I don't pretend they are and I doubt anyone would argue otherwise. They are human, just like any other race, just like any other person. However, there is one unique thing about them, specifically about the new generation (which I, technically, am a part of): they carry with themselves the degenerate epidemic of hubris that leads them to blame their own kind and pretend that they no longer belong to that community. It's sort of a like an apple pointing at a banana and mocking it by calling it a fruit. Wake up, apple! You're no cabbage, yourself!

Perhaps the saddest case of this is when Muslims look at being desi as an insult and go out of their way to point out their non-desi qualities, as if it makes them better muslims for doing so. Was I the only one paying attention when the khutbah was going on and the imam mentioned that Islam teaches us to be tolerant of other cultures and races and forbids discrimination? "All mankind is from Adam and Eve, an Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab nor a non-Arab has any superiority over an Arab; also a white has no superiority over black nor a black has any superiority over white except by piety and good action." Prophet's last speech, anyone? So, where do we get the nerve to make sweeping judgements about entire races of people, and what alien intelligence makes us start with our own?

Ultimately, guys, here's the thing: it doesn't matter if you dress different, talk different or try to act different. You are and will always be whatever race you are and you don't have the luxury to disown it. Like they say, if it acts like a duck, quacks like a duck but looks like a monkey wearing a duck's outfit, it's still a monkey...so, accept that you're a monkey....you may not be able to swim on water all day or fly in the air but Allah gave you the ability to leap from tree to tree and you should be thankful for that.

Forget all these opinions for a second. Think for a second about your own nationality, whether your desi or not. Yes, I agree that it's not necessarily something that defines us--not all of us behave like the stereotypical desi or arab or american--but, to a large part, we are shaped by it and we, in return, shape it. It defines us and we define it. We define what it means to be a desi. If we want that to be someone who starts weddings on time, we should act in that manner. If we want that to be someone who is either a doctor or an engineer, we should become that. But, by being ashamed of and mocking our own culture, we are making being desi the same thing as being ungrateful for one's heritage, being disrespectful of one's parents' culture and being prejudiced against oneself. We are making being desi the same thing as being racist of one's own culture, perhaps the most unintelligent form of racism in existence. Like the oh-so-desi who uttered these words, "be the change you want to see in the world" or at least be the change you wish to see in your community rather than stand at the side and point at it mimicking the ever-so-annoying "na na na na na!" of Nelson. Yeah, because that's real mature.

In all sincerity, our generation has felt no shame in pointing fingers at our parents and prodding and mocking their culture, something that they identify immensely with. I wonder, what if tomorrow our children look up at us and return the favor? What if tomorrow, she says, "Mom (dad), you're so desi!" or worse yet, "you're so Muslim!" Astaghfirullah!

Like my mother always says, take the good and leave the bad in everything that you are and everything that you do. Accept your good desiness and learn to change your bad desiness and use that to make you a better Muslim and a better person, so that next time someone says "That's so desi!" it's a compliment and not an insult.

Missing India

I know I am a Muslim and, more than anything in this world, I am defined by that. I know it's silly to be nationalistic. But, I can't help but feel nostalgic about India. I know there are many out there who have no good things to say about the country and, at the mention of this topic, already have a list of venomous things to spout out but, to be honest, I don't care to hear about it. I remember India in a particular way, perhaps a distorted way, but, just like in any fairy tale, the allure of justice, however unrealistic, is comforting, my India, however unrealistic, is comforting.

In this land, I have some of my fondest memories of childhood -- of a real childhood -- of innocence, of fantastical dreams, of ambitions, of contentment, of myself. I remember sleeping, counting the stars overhead on a windy cool night, with the old majestic tree swinging in the breeze. I remember waking up at 4:00 in the morning and getting ready to catch our train at the bus station. I remember the silence of a quiet town, slumbering peacefully. I remember being lifted up to the back of a bandi, being uncomfortable and looking up to see the stars and forgetting for a second the reality of the moment. I remember dreaming to fly in the skies like the carefree birds I would see touring the open fields. I remember looking out at the graveyard and remembering those I was unable to learn from. I remember being excited to go to school. I remember waking up in the summers with the goal of only one thing on my mind: play. I remember innocence and confidence and ambition like I never felt any time after. I remember having absolute faith that there was a grand purpose to my life and that everything would work out for the best. I remember aiming for the highest of achievement and not having even the tiniest sliver of doubt remind me that there was a very low possibility of me making it. I remember true freedom, true joy, true childhood. I remember the true me.

Now, more than a decade later, a jaded, corrupted soul remembers all those things and wonders if she will ever feel that again.

There's a part of me that still lingers there. A part of me that hasn't left that place even if the place has left me behind. That part of me I can't conceal. That part of me I can't silence. I know it's just a piece of land, just like any other land in this world. I know it's just another place, like many others I have lived in. I know that it's nothing special....but I'm happy there, in that past, in that fairy tale. Granted that fairy tale will end. It's already chipping away. But, can you blame me for wanting it to have a happy ending?