Hi Mom, it’s me.
Orientation in Delhi was much like the city itself: hectic at first, but ultimately an incredibly fun experience as I got acclimated. When we spoke earlier, I told you about how overwhelmed I felt to be in such a large cohort, but I can thankfully say I got over this feeling rather quickly. Everyone was so nice and easy to approach, and I can say that I made a lot of great friends. What helped to build these bonds was by exploring Delhi together. You initially felt apprehensive about this, but I could tell by your reaction to those pictures of me at Humayun’s Tomb that you felt more comfortable in me travelling. Don’t worry too much though, I’ll make sure to be careful whenever I go out.
Last time we spoke, you passionately explained to me that if I’m already exploring Delhi, I should visit Gurdwara Bangla Sahib if I had the chance. Bangla Sahib is one of the most historic places of worship for the Sikh religion. We always joke about how similar we are, usually about how we can both be stubborn, or that we love to argue. Something that was always different between us however, was how we treated religion. I was always more lax with my beliefs and never took it super seriously. This was in contrast to you, and I could always tell there was an importance to our beliefs that you wanted me to value. It’s quite complicated, especially for Punjabi-Sikhs. We very much are an ethnoreligious group, and the ethnic Punjabi identity is strongly tied to the religious Sikh identity. I’ll admit that the intertwined nature between the two, and my own lackadaisical approach to religion, has made me feel tangled in the roots you’ve passed down to me instead of feeling anchored by them.
Despite that, I know how important visiting Bangla Sahib is to you. When you left India for the United States, you stayed the night in the Gurdwara’s sarai, or guest house. It was the last place you had been in India before coming to the United States. Before you left, you prayed and wished for good luck in your new life in America. As I started my own journey in a new place, I think it would only make sense to do the same. It shows how no matter the distance we’re still connected.
I did end up going to Bangla Sahib on the last day of orientation with some friends, the experience was certainly one that will stay with me. Truthfully, of all the places I’ve visited in Delhi it felt the most unfamiliar, and it was the place where I expected to feel the most at home. When it came to navigating the gurdwara, I knew exactly what to do, and I acted as a guide for my friends who had never been to a gurdwara before. I told them all about removing shoes, wearing a head-covering, where to get parshad, how we pray, etc. The “what” was never the issue, it was the “why”. My friends would curiously ask why practices were done, and I continually found myself giving vague or basic answers, even the dreaded “I don’t know”. They didn’t expect me to have all of the answers, but I did expect myself to know more than I did. The more time we spent there, my lack of knowing the “why” despite knowing the “what” made the gurdwara feel so foreign despite its familiarity.
Our visit concluded with visiting the gurdwara’s darbar hall, or the main prayer room, and we all sat together for 30 minutes. The room was quiet, with nothing but the sound of the katha, or religious stories, the same ones you listened to every morning. The serene atmosphere was perfect for me to sit there and process my feelings. I thought about how much my cultural connection was in reality muscle memory, actions I would do passively without knowing why. I could barely explain to my friends the cultural resonance behind what we were doing, outside of very simple answers. It all made me realize how reliant I was on you for that cultural understanding, while I myself would remain passive to it all. I thought about how I could change this, and better understand the culture and heritage you passed down to me.
That thought stayed with me through the night, long after we left the gurdwara. I realized that culture isn’t just something to inherit blindly like I was doing, it’s something you explore, understand, and make your own. The “why” I was alluding to earlier isn’t something I can rely on you for, but is something I need to figure out for myself. Being in India through the Banyan Impact Fellowship will allow me to do just that, see what those roots mean and understand myself better, the same roots that connect me back to you.
Love you Mom, I’ll talk to you soon.
