You Mean I'm Not Alone?

Last night I went out with my friends and Durbar colleagues TJ and Kasturi and a fascinating group of their Kolkata friends. I know I'd sworn off Western-style partying while in India, but living alone in our large flat made me crave some company and some fun. TJ and Kasturi insisted that I stay at their beautiful, lavish high rise flat and spend the weekend hanging out with them. I swear, even the air is different up here.

What was great about last night was not the super hi-tech Western nightclub (called "The Underground" with a London subway theme) with its posh crowd, thundering dance beats or outlandishly expensive drinks. I had such interesting conversations with the potpurri of "sorta Bengali" young men and women we went out with. I sensed that everyone there was tumbling down the rabbithole of national/cultural/ethnic/linguistic identity. Everyone in the crowd had at least one Bengali parent and most spoke Bengali to some extent, but everyone there was a native English speaker and had a life history of movement and migration. Some were born in the UK, raised for 10 years in Kolkata then schooled in the US. Others were born here in Cal, raised in Kuwait and are now living in the US. Some were born in Bombay and raised in Canada and are returning to Calcutta for the first time. How can you "return" somewhere for the first time? That's what's so crazy about identity politics.

In Bangla, you might say that everyone there had an ulta-palta (topsy turvey?) sense of to which 'community' they belonged or didn't belong. I think that's why I related so well to everyone. None of us really 'fit in' anywhere except in the company of others who don't 'fit in.' It was like doing anthropological field research, actually. I had to fight my instinct to grab my little notepad and jot down portions of the conversation. Anyway, I had fun, and I beamed when more than one person said I was cool because I wasn't a "snobby" or "clueless" ABCD (American-Born Confused Desi).

I wish I brought my camera. I definitely burned up the dance floor with some improvised Bhangra and Bollywood moves. A photographer from the Times of India snapped some photos of TJ, Kasturi and I and took our names down. I think we're on p.3.

Off to try and get something productive done for the weekend.


-TKP, American-Born Cool Desi