Juneid is a devout Muslim and hosts Eid Milan every year in New York. His invitees include people of all faiths and inclinations — Hindus, Christians, Jews, congressmen, social workers, whites, nonwhites, Indians and non-Indians. He successfully runs a construction business, allows his wife and daughter to take U.S. citizenship, but takes pride in his Indian citizenship. He vows never to give it up. He is a patriot who made his fortune here, enjoys the material comforts of USA yet pines for his motherland, and dreams of one day becoming a Member of Parliament in India. He fits into no stereotype, speaks accented English with his daughter and chaste Urdu with his wife. He lightly carries his uniqueness and a bouquet of diverse identities. Such people are growing in number.
Look at these three examples: Dr. Alok of Boston, a scientist, acquired American citizenship long ago but retains a passionate interest in the Indian elections and thinks of Indian problems and prospects as if he were still in Vadodara or Valsad. He feels proud when India sends a mission to Mars and gets upset each time the New York Times writes about slums, poverty or rapes in India. He is the quintessential first generation Indian.
Compare that to how Shuchi, a young graduate who was born in India but educated in the U.S., thinks. She studied Hindi, not her mother tongue Oriya, because of her Bollywood fascination, has studied the South Asian economy and feels that going to India to work for some NGO or non-profit may add to her bio and improve her standing as a budding expert on South Asia. She has no plans to return to India and may marry her Afro-American boyfriend. She is the second generation Indian.
Then meet Sam, whose real name is Shyam. With a degree from Georgetown and currently studying law, he has no memories of India other than what he has got from his grandpa’s stories of a small village in Punjab. He has no desire to go to India, and in his only visit he hated the garbage and bureaucracy there. Nevertheless, he contributes regularly to a charity that helps poor Indians go to school. Sam is how future generations of Indians in the U.S. may look.
At a philosophical level, how the Americans and Indians see themselves in this context is interesting. Americans cherish their motto, ‘E pluribus unum’ meaning “Out of many, one”, giving primacy to the concept of ‘diversity’ over ‘unity’, while in India we take pride in saying Ekoham vipra bahudha vadanti (while I am one, the wise refer [to me] by many names), thereby emphasising the unity aspect more than the diversity. However, both recognise unique identity and diversity are symbiotic. Both exist and feed into each other.
The first generation fights for survival, job, security and wealth. They remain Indians in every sense except for their professional life where they share space with others. They are passionate about going to the temple, celebrating Diwali and bringing up their children as Indians. The second generation is somewhat torn between India and America but slowly loses touch with India and has no memories to haunt. They are more Americans, understand the nuances of the socio-political life better but carry a strong influence of parents. For the third generation it is almost upside down: they are at home here and India is a distant land with a growing market where they may join one day as the country manager for IBM or Citi. They think of India the way once their grandpa thought of America and vice versa.
But this augurs well both for India and America. The Indians in the U.S. have their destiny tied to that country and they are doing well. They are aware of their Indian origin but are proud to be Americans. They join politics and become congressmen, governors and judges. They are visible in media, universities and businesses. The recent appointment of Richard Rahul Verma as the Ambassador of the U.S. to India is a milestone. We are our own ambassadors and the world is our oyster!
