(The author is Kimi Colney, a blogger and a patriot at heart who doesn’t mind
giving a piece of her mind to anyone who looks down upon or talks ill of the people
from Northeast India – Editor)
Dear Mother India,
From the day I was born, you were the first sight I saw. My first steps
were in your soil. I spent a month memorizing your national anthem. Recited it
with pride among my peers in second grade.
Ever year, I celebrated
the Republic Day and Independence Day. Watched all of Gandhi’s movies and a few
of Bhagat Singh’s. Learnt of our rich history of the Mughal Empire and
the Maurya dynasty.
I visited temples and
villages, beaming with pride for the nation I belong to. I walked the marble
stones of the Taj Mahal and wondered about the great minds of our ancestors.
On meeting people from
another country, I’d tell them with pride, there are 28 states in my country.
We may not be economically strong, but we are strong, culturally. We have so
many kinds of people, all so beautiful, so many distinct dances and festivals,
we are a close-knit family.
I wrote articles about
you hoping people would read and get a taste of Incredible India.
But even though I love
you still, today I must say goodbye to you. Though my passport is Indian,
though my birth certificate claims I’m Indian, and though I’ve lived in these soils all my
life, I am not Indian.
To be considered part of
a family, you must be accepted by the members of the family. And today,
clearer than ever, we have been shown that we are not. Though the country talks
of progress, broad minds and acceptance, everyone from street vendors to
employees in the biggest MNC’s, a small part of your heart will always discriminate.
The saddest part is what
you discriminate upon – our looks. How many times have we read and recited the
words, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Well, DEAR INDIA, that’s
what you do everyday.
I wear a sari to work
with a patriotic feeling, tugging the ends with difficulty, and all along the
way, I hear chants of ‘Chinese model, Chinese model’. I hang out with my
friends in a Chinese restaurant, I’ve known them for months, explained to them
that I am FROM the country, but half of the conversation goes like, “this is
Kimi’s restaurant, order anything you want….” At outings I get introduced
as the Chinese friend. In trains I am referred to as “that Nepali”.
In every city, every
town, this is what we go through everyday. We have looked by, hoping and
thinking, they will understand and learn of us someday. But such a thing
as death, for someone of such a young an age as 20 for reasons
relating to his hairstyle, is not something that can be looked by.
Well, I have just one
question for you India, are you ashamed of us? Do your rather wish we were
foreigners of another country then one of your own land. Even after knowing we
are your fellow citizens, why does your taunting never stop?
And what is so wrong in
our face? Our eyes are a little small, we are a little fairer, we like
experimenting with our hairstyles,
does that make us any less a part of India? Or, would you like us all to go
through plastic surgeries making our eyes bigger, changing our features, and
having oil-slick hairstyles to be deemed citizens of the country?
Are you ashamed that we
are of the “scheduled tribe” section of the country? Because in a land where
caste says everything, it wouldn’t be surprising. But, just so you know, though
we may not have many railroads, looming malls or corporate giants, though a
large part of our population may still depend on farming, each day we wake up
as Indians. WE toil through India’s soils, we watch Indian channels, we eat and
drink India’s food.
Each day we read
newspapers of India, checking up on politics, wondering who will be a good
leader for what we have for so many years called our country. But now you make
us wonder, is it really?
Goodbye India,
A Proud Northeast-ern
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