The term ‘plural identity was popularized by the great public intellectual Amartya Sen, in his book ‘Identity and Violence’. We have various shades to ourselves. We can be various manifestations of ourselves, and still be us and be nothing at the same time. The human mind has a predetermined inclination to nomenclature everything. I can be a South Asian, a Bengali, a Christian by Faith and a  Muslim by Culture and still have the ethos of the ‘Sanatan Dharma’ in me and still speak Arabic, Malay and Marathi equally at ease. I am still myself, irrespective of these shades and hues, and still be nothing at the same time. Arjun Appadurai in the book ‘Fear of Small Numbers’ elucidates the notion that minorities are manufactured as a totem for the majority community to feel good. Ethnocides are not organic, they are engineered.  A Hutu vs Tutsi Battle in Rwanda or a conflict in the Balkans are a classic example. People are not straight laced to be reduced to mere terms for analysts to play with.

The idea of India is a nationalization of a cultural ethos. In this age of globalization, we have fluid identities- every place that we live in, contributes a spec in to our soul and we transmit a vector of our emotions in to the place as well. A solid identity gives us emotional security, a sense of grounding where we have come from, a heritage to cherish and a compass to measure our lives. The ‘family name’ concept is the foundation of identity. It means not a lot to me frankly as I have been a professional migrant all my self and intend to be so. Diaspora kids like me, have a hard time to negotiate, analyse and place where and what we are actually. I would suggest, that just be what you are and do not bother if you are the right candidate for an arranged marriage match. Good things happen in their own time.

Identities are the foundation of civilizations; nation states derive legitimacy from that. In fact electoral politics has its edifice in the business of identity. We are all tributaries of water joining the Ganga or the Tigris or the Danube, whichever water body, the reader wishes to ‘identify’ my oneself with.

Cabbies according to me are the most interesting people, they meet a wide variety of folks from the prestigious to the bizarre. They see things that professional policy analysts cannot, and make better sociologists than a PhD in the domain atleast in terms of feildwork. A Singaporean cabbie will analyse the Hougang By Election better or on par as Cherian George! Today I was driven home by a hindi speaking migrant from Jaunpur, Uttar Pradesh who is a former farmer, graduate turned cabbie when things turned economically sour back home in his village. He is educating a son in an engineering college in Bhopal which is costing him a phenomenal amount in comparison to what he earns. He has three more children and wishes to direct his younger son to write the civil services exam to become a IAS Officer; the ultimate symbol of success and power. This is what emerging India is, a cabbie’s son studying in an engineering college, unthinkable a generation ago. He dissects Yadav-Dalit political dynamics with a biased scalpel although precise as a surgeon. He asks me, why dont i attempt to write the civil services exam and i tell him that i am a freelance writer by night, and normalcy is what i wish to attain. The zest for growth was infectious. Singaporean cabbies are better news sources than Temasek Times and Straits Times put together. They make for enlightening conversation from Politics to which place makes Roti Prata the best lah! I have met many a cabbie in Singapore whose children study in NTU and NUS and have met a NUS Sociology Grad who drives a cab!  Cabbies give me a reality check, a sense that there is more to attain. Certaily there is a lot to learn from the Taxi wala or the ‘Taxi Uncle’ in the Tiny Red Dot.

I have not succeeded 99% of the times, i have attempted to do things the first time around. A lot of relatives wrote me off after my 10th standard exams. Every few years i have faced this conundrum; starting fresh on a clean slate. There are loads of challenges in working out of your comfort zone, but the learning curve is enormous. But this world, requires a CV, a track record to boot. Experimentation is hardly encouraged. No wonder Innovation is confined to academic research papers, which researchers themselves do not adhere to itself.

Failure offers a new opportunity to start anew. Social Stigma kills, very much but there is no more joy in outproving who doubt us.  new road is thrilling to explore, the chances of failure are huge and the hormonal kick is mind blowing. A NEW CHALLENGE IS A NEW REASON TO LIVE.  So get a challenge to stretch ones limits. Get dumped, sacked, thrown out but for the right sentiment, purpose and motivation. The next turn ahead then will be a much smoother drive. Fail, Fail Forward.

I have moved again, yes this time to the city of my birth and a place where i partly spent my childhood: Mumbai. Its a sense of Deja vu  i am experiencing coming back and living in the same place where I lived a decade back and had never consciously tried to come back ever since I left for tertiary education overseas.  This time around I am back with a job, after three years of grad school- exams, research papers, final exams and working on a research project the past 18 months in which I made my living. I had a terrific time in Singapore, a city which made me into what i am. I had friends who cared about me in the Tiny Red Dot, superb mentors and a platform to explore myself. Still why the painful decision to come back. I realized this since a while that India in-spite of all its drawbacks is a young country, booming with energy  and everyone around here in Mumbai is on the go to make a living and a zest to make it big. I love this buzz about the city which otherwise is a text book example of income inequalities and urban rich-poor gulf. Its better to be in a growth market.

The roads are certainly better, although the traffic is still very bad. Prices have shot through the roof as i feel as i am paying everything in dollar terms although the salary is in rupees, which is terrible.  It was great to catch up with a couple of child hood friends and realize or come to terms that time and distance have nothing to do with human emotion, they are still the same old thing.  I am trying to rebuild my life here, where as everyone else seems to have one here. I will write about my journey here and my past experiences as a diasporic boy struggling to carve a fluid identity in the Middle East and SE Asia. I feel great to be back here but have a tinge of sadness as I had to leave a life painstakingly built overseas. I look forward to my ‘Re”-Discovery of India.