Ramblings On the Fence

AN APOLOGY

Jawahara,

I re-read my posts and I can see how some of my references and a ``joke`` were completely out of line. Trust me, I did not mean it at all the way they came out. Reading the posts from a cold, third person eye made me realize how stupid and offensive some of my comments were. I’m a very open and honest person. It is not like me to keep anything suppressed and not talk about it. What I started as a match-fire on this board turned into an arson. And it has bothered me quite a lot. Since everything said was in public, so I must also apologize to you in public, knowing that my open apology to you will not make me a small person but you accepting it will certainly make you a bigger person.

Godot

A CRITIC’S DEFENSE...

It is a sign of grave insecurities and feeble-mindedness that harsh criticism, analogies, and jokes are taken as personal attacks. My approach to the article in question was not to attack the writer but her writing. Unfortunately, given the insecurities surrounding the atmosphere, that is how it was perceived and, as the responses developed, the writer became a victim and the critic the aggressor.

An emotionally secure person would have defended my attacks on the writing, laughed at the jokes, or, better yet, if unable to handle the onslaught, just let my comments slide into the oblivion.

But no! Instead of questioning what is it that made me believe the article is “third-rate”--and I would’ve happily elaborated on my first post--some interactors and the writer took umbrage to my post, twisted it to make me appear a “personal” attacker, questioned my “gray matter,” and when further attacked in defense, pointed the finger at me and said, “see everybody.” Never mind the writing in question, the focus of my “attack”! Good going!!!

Chowk is not a charity where “all” readers are going to be benevolent and pity-praise a pathetic piece of writing out of personal liking for the writer. And mind you, this is not the last time I have harshly criticized a writing at Chowk (so, all you insecure writers, beware.)

There’s nothing personal in my criticism. This board reminds me of a series of back and forth letters to the Editor in The Guardian a few years back. John LaCarre, a brilliant writer, had reviewed a book by Salman Rushdie for that newspaper, and in his review was not very charitable to Mr. Rushdie. Guess what! An insecure--and this happens every time when one is not as good as one is made out to be--Mr. Rushdie took it very personally and had all kind of nasty things to say about LaCarre, and, to make things worse, in Rushdie defense one of his friends, Christopher Hutchins--who thinks with his only left side of the brain--joined, and started to lambaste LaCarre in the nastiest manner. And guess what, dear people! All those readers, I’m sure, whose “gray matter” was in working order were with Mr. LaCarre.

Now, dear people, I know you can’t help it, but don’t start drawing conclusions to the above story. That is just a story I recounted that the current situation reminded me. There’s nothing personal about it. Give your insecurities a little rest.

I`m sorry, folks, especially Ras. This was never meant to be a ``personal`` attack, but it is being percieved that way. I`ve nothing personal against the writer (I don`t know...why should I?)

Having said that, I`m still of the opinion that ``Ramblings On The Fence`` is an example of a bad, third-rate writing. But then, as the writer says, to each his own taste (now, you can think of ``that`` as a ``personal attack`` as well if you wish.)

=== Interact Filtered ===
view this users filtered interacts

This may not be Jawahara`s best work on CHOWK to date
but she sure could teach a great many of us here what good writing is
all about from her other pieces.

Godot, you are getting too personal.


Ras

Re: Jawahara, #38

What possible “agenda” you think I have against “you,” Jawahara? Why should I pick on you? As I remember, a while back I praised one of your stories...I don’t know...it had something to do with a chapati and a belly or something...can’t exactly remember...that was probably the only time, other than this one, I had commented on your writing...what do you mean, then, by “...or any other piece I have written”? Now, Jawahara, you are putting words in my mouth and presenting yourself as an innocent victim of my aggression...a devil with an “agenda.”

Perhaps Beelzebub I am, but not the kind of a devil who takes it out on Malini if Kamini hits on me...I’ll make sure it’s Kamini’s behind I kick and not Malini’s...(and you can pronounce “Kamini” as “kameenee” if you wish...after all I do have an “agenda” as you seem to believe!)

And what “personal” comments I made to you in my postings? Please be specific. All my criticism, admittedly harsh, was directed against your writing, not against your looks or your personal life? And as for the “empress” remark--well, first of all I don’t think of you as an “empress”--it’s a classic saying and you know that as well as I do. The “empress” replaced “emperor” because here I was dealing with a female writer, that’s all. And if you are offended by it, then why? Why is it fine to say “the emperor is not wearing any clothes” and not fine to say “the empress”? That was not a “personal attack” on you. If you took it personally, well, then, as you say, it’s your prerogative. If you feel violated by the imagery, which you sure seem to be, well, don’t...it was never meant to be that way.

Go back and re-read all of my posts on this board, especially the very first one, and then come back and tell me if it is your “Ramblings On The Fence” I am criticizing or it is a personal attack on you. I’d also like you to tell me where, why, and how I was out of line in my criticism in my very first post, or in fact in any other post...really, I’d like to know that...was it my Porsche analogy? What???

You sound very upset, Jawahara...perhaps haven’t slept well, either, in a few days, thinking of my posts. Relax! Just tell your friends at Chowk that if they are going to challenge me then they should behave themselves first before they expect the same from me.

I am glad to hear that you “always” wear clothes in public, or you’ll stir up quite a scene! I’m also happy to hear that you’re not hurt by my comments, because if you were, you’d just be flattering me...and surely you don’t want to do that!

Now, just go back, cook a nice Indian meal for your loving husband, feed your dog, think of “back home”...don’t think of me...I’m not worth it...

Godot, I am glad you care about good writing. Truly I do. However, I have the sneaking suspicion that this caring now is spilling over into some kind of agenda. Like I said I do not defend my writing. It it`s good it`s good and if it`s not, it`s not. You, however, did not just stay with a critique of my writing did you? You started making personal comments and pushing an agenda; this happened to me so I will make sure I do it to someone else.

My feelings are definitely not hurt by the fact that you did not like this piece or any other piece I have written. That is a matter of personal taste and my talent or lack of it. I just wanted to make my feelings clear on that matter.

And while I appreciate the fact that you think of me as an empress, I have to tell you, I always, always wear clothes in public.

Also if you have the right (and you do) of criticising someone`s writing, others surely have the right to criticise the way you do it. Unfortunately when you`re pushing an agenda of some kind, as you clearly are, that gets buried.

Re: Samina, #36

Chowk is a place for the writers and the readers. And unlike other publications where the reader has very limited access in expressing his opinion, Chowk is an open forum. Almost any comment, no matter how profound or inane, gets published. Here, the reader is free to express his opinion regardless of the “feelings” of the writer or other interactors. The writer takes that risk when submitting an article to Chowk. Not every reader is going to be nice and sensitive and praise a crappy piece of writing that no other publication worth its salt would publish.

Now, it’s fairly common for the readers at Chowk to praise a mediocre writing because the reader just happens to like the writer, never mind the third-rate quality of her writing. I am not that way. I care about good writing as much as I care about Chowk. Most of the time my comments about bad writing rub the wrong way. I get challenged by the offended readers and things get out of hand.

Lets face it, Samina. Not all submissions at Chowk are of good quality, some are quite bad, including “Ramblings On The Fence”, whether one wants to hear it or not. And if the writer and her well-wisher readers get offended by scathing comments on her writing, well, tough luck. If the writer feels the criticism is not justified, then she should be able to defend her writing. You know very well that I have gone through that process myself with my writings at Chowk. There are readers at Chowk just waiting to nail me on my writings, and would like to rip me apart in the most ruthless manner the first opportunity they get, and each time I have defended my writing or have accepted any flaws to it. If ``feelings`` of the writer and her reader-friends are hurt by criticism, then do not submit the writing. You know, as they say, if you cannot stand the heat...

My gray matter is fully intact and operational and that’s why I am able to stand up and say the empress is not wearing any clothes.

Btw, go back and read your own comment about my gray matter before you preach the contrary.

Godot,

Your 12 head supporting days have compromised your gray matter...absose ka baath hain...:(

Re: Samina, #34

Samina,

Don’t wait up for my version of it, mainly because I don’t have longing for “back home.” As for my identity “crisis,” I’ve already written my version of it for Chowk.

“maybe its the rush of a voice muttering to itself as the speaker catches the subway...maybe its the dishes clattering in the sink...”

Now, that’s good writing. You are a good writer, Samina (that was quite beautiful...I am serious.) But, unfortunately, all it does that it makes the article and the writer in question appear even worse!

Godot Baba,

Maybe its not a Porche, but an origami swan with no reving engines, girls with pom-poms and noisy tune up centers...maybe its light through the red garden....maybe its the rush of a voice muttering to itself as the speaker catches the subway...maybe its the dishes clattering in the sink, 4 days of bleary snow, whatever....and Godot Sahib, I am waiting for your version of it...not everything is big bangs and pyrotechnics....

Re: Samina, #30

I am not clear as to what you are disagreeing with. I don`t have an issue with the theme of the article; it is its poor quality of writing and the way the theme is addressed in it. A Porsche in the hands of a driver who does not know the difference between the break and the clutch and cannot drive more than 35 miles an hour does not make Porsche a bad car. It’s the driver that’s the problem.

I’ll tell you, Samina, this very theme with the pen of a good writer could have been very very powerful...alas...

Jawahara #13 Romair, I am buying my ticket to Toronto right now. You will pick me up at the airport right? :-)

I would come and pick you up, however I have myself yet to move. I will be driving their in a month or two. So you can come along for the ride, if interested.

I don`t think there is any perfect place in the world, where one feels settled, if one has made the decision to migrate once. I have had the chance to live in quite a few places. The place where I felt the most uncomfortable was actually in Pakistan. That was mostly due to a feeling of a lack of opportunity to progress. So I ended up in the USA. Progressed quite a bit. But now I don`t feel comfortable here. Mostly due to the fact, that I think the US society is one terrorist attack away from sideling Pakistanis, and Muslims in general (hope I am wrong). So I am off to Canada. The only place left to investigate, that I have heard good things about, is UAE.

Basically, I am looking for a place where my kids will live. I am close to the point of progression in career, where I can go back to Pakistan, without worrying about a lack of opportunity of progress. So I will eventually move there, hopefully after an early retirement, while my next generations will probably be Muslim Canadians.

Home is where the heart is. It is where most of your family is. It is where most people are like you in looks, thoughts, language, customs, desires etc. This may or may not be the place where one happens to be living at the moment.

My ultimate criteria for home is, as follows: It is sports team you cheer for in a tournament. If in a USA versus India match, your heart cheers for USA than that is your home. If it cheers for India, then India is your home. It doesn`t matter if you have not spent a single day in India.

For me, my heart still cheers for the Pakistani team. After that, it has now started cheering a bit for the Canadian team. But it has never cheered for any other team, regardless of how much I have tried to force it to do so.

So my home is Pakistan - good, bad, indifferent, crime-filled or peaceful, poor or rich, fundamentalist or liberal, military-ruled or democractic, till death do us part.

=== Interact Filtered ===
view this users filtered interacts

Godot,

I disagree. I felt a certain amount of recognition and sadness in the questions the author was posing because I have asked (as I`m sure many of us have) the same questions. For example, today I took part in a discussion with a group of 4 relative strangers on the subject of war against Iraq, our current administration, the current scare for some of us. Four women, one a Jewish American woman in her 60s, a Dominican woman in her 50`s, an Israeli Jewish woman in her 30`s and me. The Dominican and Israeli woman were working on the Jewish American woman`s and my hands-and let me tell you- I get a manicure every six months with extreme self consciousness. So imagine all the reference points of ethnicity, class, political viewpoint, citizenry in that one room. I was really not sure how the conversation was going to go-esp. when the Israeli worker said, ``you know these people-they don`t value their lives- all they know is Allah``. I was of course, compelled to disagree and give my point of view based on my reference points and my family`s experiences in India, Pakistan and America. The Israeli woman gave her reference points-she came here to escape the insanity of the suicide bombings and arrived just before 9/11. ``There is no where in this world that is safe anymore`` she said. While I understand that her viewpoints have a legitimacy, I could not accept the tenor of her arguments-which was as I suspect, not very loving towards Arabs or Muslims. The Jewish American woman turned out to be quite critical of the Republican party and said that her nephew was marrying a nice, educated Indian girl, and the Dominican woman worker (who is a grandmother with her entire family in NYC) has been going to church everyday lately. ``There are a lot of crazy people in all religions``, she says. The thing is here-how would that conversation had gone had I not been there? If I had not said, my family is happy to be here and Pakistani but we are not intolerant and neither are the majority of Pakistanis whom I am certain are more reasonable than they are given credit for, and esp. more reasonable than the fundo element? What would have been said had I not said, ``My yoga teacher is a Muslim woman``, and told them of her identities as a Indian Muslim living in Africa, the UK and now here? Or that what happens in Iraq is not as simple as Iraqis have no value for their lives?
I wonder.

And after I got home, that conversation played in my head over and over-because they are not easy to have and are sometimes quite draining. Can I tell you that I have respect for these women as workers-I am cognizant of the fact that today, I was able to afford a personal service, and that I imagine providing these services is hard work? And while I was very uncomfortable with the claim of the Israeli worker that ``Those people don`t value their lives``, I sympathised that she was worried about her ma in Israel-while the subtext of Palestinian statehood was unspoken? (And I think she guessed I was for it)

This is why I particularly liked this part of this essay:

``But is the place we long for home, or a memory of home and how things used to be? Is it a tribal, immigrant longing for familiarity and dignity and culture and its knowledge? Or is it just a desire to be in a place where you can truly fit in?``

My answer is, I don`t know. And that in itself is profoundly disturbing to me at this moment.

re. #17 by Ansari
``i haven`t seen rabbit-proof fence (rainbow centre hasn`t acquired rights yet.)``
LOL!
Didn`t know you`re in Karachi! Maybe we could organize a Karachi Chowk association through which we could have to go along with real, live, interacts :)
rgds,
PM

re. Umair, #4:
``There is such a place. It is called Toronto :-) ``
By golly, I think you may be spot on!

Here`s a poem that reflects on the `diasporic condition`

A Better Life
~~Diane Mehta

Driving on midsummer`s deserted roadways
past the forts and empires, temple idols
praised like liberty, the abandoned tires
in your expression

How the evenings spread like a rooftop fire
in the heat of winter; Diwali sparklers
making citizens in the sky, your gilded
gardens with fences.

Countries have no sympathy; only praises
amplified like distances for the newer
land: the housing gauntlets we had to enter,
stripped but with freedom!

Standards change like faith in a foreign country:
how the slurs ignited like gas; remember
when he lit the match, then the flame was dancing,
swaying like cobras

Don`t you miss the rains in July, your mother`s
hair in wet braids, sandalwood-scented, spices
shaped like cones on plates and the servants laughing,
chewing on peppers?

Did you pledge allegiance to lawns and fences,
better lives for us; the best western education?
Neighbors take the place of extended families,
freedom expires

like your father dying in Bombay, hardly
sixty when he leaned into whiteness. Packaged
smoke unfurled and pulled him with yellow fingers
past all the rooftops.

Now you drive on highways to work and homeward.
Winter cuts the windshield with blistered fingers,
feeds you flashes: corn in the husk on street-grills,
red with paprika.

Jawahara,
I didn`t know smart people thought and felt the same way I did. Thanks for the affirmation of sorts.
As always, found you writing penetrative and elegant in simplicity.
rgds,
PM

Re Jay #18
What do you mean left overs. Ours would refuse to eat her chappatis unless my mom had made them herself. And there was this strict vegetarian Iyer family one of them whom would cook meat on a daily basis because thats what their Alsatian`s diet required :).

re Jay #18:

I wish you`d post more stuff like that. Too bad you had to slip in the PS to spoil it.

Regards
-sac

I try never to defend my writing so I will not start now. My work is what it is; some people like it, other`s don`t. That is a matter of personal taste.

I will say that while Molly, her sister and cousin faced angst and fear and anger, most of us willing immigrants do not. I was not writing about ``home,`` as that one place frozen in time in India (or wherever) else, but ``home,`` the idea, the longing and the yearning for a sense of belonging.

Is this something that tears at me everyday, making me a misfit in the U.S., isolated and ghettoized? No. This is just one of the delicately shaded intervals of my life, free from true angst. For the most part I live a fulfilled, regular life, free from strife and struggle.

Though the root of his article (for me) has an emotional base, it was largely an intellectual exercise. As Samina says, I wanted to raise some points which I would like to discuss. I have no answers and do not claim that I do. This, like other things in life, is open-ended.

Re: Samina, #20

Samina, it’s not that I’m against “genre,” it’s a matter of what is good writing. I believe I have an ability to distinguish good writing from bad. For me, the overriding aspect of any writing is “how” it is said and not “what” is being said; the use of words, metaphors, analogies, allegories, imagery, reign supreme over theme. Written well, a lousy theme can be very powerful; and written badly, as in this case, a good theme can leave the reader regretting the time wasted reading it. “Ramblings On The Fence” is a good theme; it’s the execution that’s atrocious.

If you want to talk about the theme of the essay, that’s fine. Just don’t go around showering accolades on a third-rate piece of writing.

Jawahara
Well written, thanks, particularly this is very familiar :``But when you peel back the layers, the only thing that remains is: I want to go home``.

I think many NRIs have found that one good way to partially reconcile with the complications and contradictions you talk of, is getting involved from overseas in supporting unambiguously useful causes at home. For example primary education, AIDS awareness, health care.

This way, the fact of one`s being nonresident can be seen to even be an advantage. For example, IIT alumini who made their millions in pardesh, were able to donate millions to IITs` corpus? funds in desh. There was a NY cabdriver who by spending approx $2000 per year of his earnings runs a whole girls school in his hometown. Another example is of a well-to-do doctor settled in the US whom I personally came to know of, who has been running a mobile clinic in his home state for over last many years.

AND such activism(which should be of the benign constructive kind of course!! not like `friends of Bajrang Dal `:)) gives a sense of connection and involvement with home. Of course this should be within limits. I knew of someone who got admitted for a PhD in a prestigious US school, arrived in the US and got so involved in worthy causes `back home` that he returned without completing his studies.

Re: Jay, #18

``godot on perennial attacks``

Oh, please, Jay! This essay sucks and you know that. It’s just bad writing. But I suppose one wouldn’t know bad writing from good if one doesn’t read good writings!

This is not the first time that a less-than-mediocre writing has been hailed as mark of excellence and “moving” at Chowk, and it’s not going to be the last. Many Chowkies need a lesson as to what constitutes quality writing. You are one of them. This essay isn’t quality.

Godot and Jay Sahibs,

If you are unable to appreciate more experimental writing, i.e. non linear personal narratives, I suggest you temper your responses with that admission. Otherwise, it sounds like both of you are two have some kind of definitive monopoly on what is ``legitimate`` longing for identity and safety-which Jayaprakash Sahib I am waiting for you to claim exists in the West lately and legitimate genre adherence-and Godot Sahib, I refer you to A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius for genre busting that will spin the socks off your ankles.

Until then, the writer has raised some genuine issues. Perhaps we can actually discuss them now.

Jawahara,

You are too young, too early on the trail. There is the next stage, when the children have grown up, on their own path of realization of their potential, the dog has died at the age of twenty, having survived only on the left over Indian food, as it is in India. Then the short term memory fades and the long term one is enervated as though to close the birth death cycle. Then you remember the childhood, the long walk to the primary school, the care free nature of your child hood and feel sad for your own children in the developed country, you feel a longing for the land that endowed you with that indomitable spirit, the pursuit of knowledge, vidya, the greatest wealth. The dilemma dissolves, you return, to go to your old college, talk about aircraft long range operations, tell them why even a B747 cannot follow the shortest route, why it has to be 180 minutes from an airport. And they ask you a lot of questions, many are surprised by the intricacies of aircraft engines, the flight envelop protection of A320 where the machine over-rules the pilot, and they give you a traditional Kerala oil lamp, as a mark of respect for coming back after 35 years to kindle the spirit of enquiry among a new generation. You come home, light the lamp every day, which you never did before, in silent prayer to the spirit, the spirit of the land. You feel a completeness, from dust to dust.

Regards

Jayaprakash

P.S.

Then you get on the chowk to do some paki-bashing, you see tahmed seething in rage, godot on perennial attacks, temporal quotes from posts of yester years, ylh starts posting lies about abdus salam, then you realize that you are also a catalyst for evolution, the bipeds are evolving to Homo erectus pakistanicus, and you go to sleep with a smile.

i haven`t seen rabbit-proof fence (rainbow centre hasn`t acquired rights yet.) though i was reminded of one of mira nair`s films, mississippi masala, about an indian family expelled from uganda and running a motel on some US highway. how the father is in constant effort to try and reclaim his land from the government and when he does finally go back it`s only to realise that ``home is where the heart is.``

Enjoyed reading this. My two cents. . .

I think being an immigrant lends face to a conflict that would occur irrespective of where we live. Having worked themselves into a familiar groove people find they`ve now got their breath back enough to think about what`s happened to them, to take stock as it were. Priorities are evaluated, landscapes excavated as one strives to reach an emotional balance with his circumstances. And during this people infallibly, and perhaps irresistibly, finds themselves drawn to what someone referred to as ``the universal republic of childhood``, that sacred country where we were once safe and protected and loved and within whose shy borders our most precious memories are stored. We want to go back and retrieve them in an effort to reintroduce that color into our lives, that equilibrium we so unthinkingly took for granted. But it doesn`t happen and perhaps in that sense we can never go home.

Though that`s not to say the past is dead and gone. It`s still there, surviving in the people we love, in the relationships that have endured in spite of the distances. Perhaps growing up then, and resetting the balance, involves giving a new shape to that love, a new form to the affection that saw us through.

Regards,

Aamir

sac...#12: i like what you said about individual choices. :-)
About Rabbit-proof fence:
I saw this movie over a month ago (it was only four blocks away) when I returned from Christmas holiday. It is a very powerful film, the silences, the trek of Molly, her sister and cousin, combined with the `for God and country` statements of the Kenneth Branagh character say more than enough about the plight of `half-castes` or `aboriginals` in Australia. It is a film about the intense longing for home and family. It`s a film about the struggle to hold on to one`s identity and culture and not to give in to it`s erosion. Molly feels her identity tied more to her `aboriginal` mother and community, and to her language, more so than the white, `Christian` group who abducts her, and other `half-caste` children. And within these `half-castes` it`s the lighter skinned ones who the director of the `training facility` is more interested in `saving`.
these children were not immigrants like some of us are, they were `already there` and until the `70`s as Jawahara pointed out, they were snatched away from their `aboriginal` parent and put in these camps. What Molly did with her sister...to travel 1200 miles relying on nature for their food, and little water, was incredible...an act of great courage and determination, which she repeated, though with the loss of her older daughter. I recommend this movie to everyone!
godot, you have a point when you say that RPF itself is not really connected to what we as immigrants who choose to come here go through, but we are connected to this longing for home and holding on to an identity associated with home, are we not? It wasn`t the entire story of RPF that Jawahara was connecting us with, just a theme that clicked this snapshot.
sammi,
i personally think that it`s always been kinda crazy here, with the xenophobia, the rise of neo-nazi groups, the continuing struggles of people of color, and immigrants, this is an extension of that craziness, it`s taken on a different look and tone, and yes it is getting crazier....

jawahra, quite a moving piece. Don`t know what the solution could be or any good way to deal with these feelings but we all have such thoughts and feelings once in a while. One thing I know from my own experience is that ``back home`` is not what we used to know or think it is. Over a period of 10/15 years things and people change so much that what we called home once is not really that homely anymore. Although I love where I am, once in a while I do feel goign back forever some day...The problem I see with it is that we really need a higher purpose than usual(to live a relaxed life, our adopted home is becoming hell, I need to be with my own people)...one almost needs a mission to accomplish back home to really make the going back possible. For the most of the mortals, it is a continuous dilemna that will end with death eventually. The ones born and brought up here will have much less feelings like that and will have to fight their fights here...there is no back home for them.

Greetings all!

I am slowly making my way back into writing. it is good to be back. This article really was just a rambling, a snapshot of what I felt after watching the movie. Samina, it is getting rather crazy and hysterical. In my 17 years of living in this country, I feel the burden of my differentness the most acutely now.

Farzana, of course I agree with you. Sometimes when we talk of going back to live in India we come face to face with that dilemma as well. So, maybe keeping India (or any home) as this unattainable, mythical place at least makes us feel we have some place to go, if all else fails. An imperfect solution.

Culture and differences are issues I have written of in other places for a while now (including academia) and it only made sense to write a small, rambling piece on chowk. To test the waters. :-)

Romair, I am buying my ticket to Toronto right now. You will pick me up at the airport right? :-)

I look forward to more discussions. Yay!

jawahara:

“But our lives are complicated. We do like living here. We came here for a reason, of our free will. We came here looking for something. And like Dorothy, when we found it, the only thought left was of home. We want to clack our ruby shoes together and be transported home, in an instant.”

is above quotes is based on your US experience?

the reason why i asked is the experience of immigrants in other parts of the world can be different…canada follows a different path…opposite that of the ‘melting pot’ in the US…multiculturalism is the state policy…mosaic the state fabric….

…and…

to this i would add a certain ‘duality’…in us…in me…have this love and respect for both the subcontinent and Canada…in much the same manner as a mother loving her children…happiness or ‘satisfaction’ is a state of mind as bina, ana and ferzi alluded in their posts…

when you look for “... that elusive place that can also be called home…”…please pause and look at the ‘american’ experience from the POV of say the navajo indians or the hopi….you talk of invincible fences…jawahara…when you read up on them you will find they are barricaded behind fortress walls by the governement policies…and alas the fate of native indians and inuits is no better in canada…

…sorry this is getting longer…while on the movies…check out lee tamori’s once were warriors (1994 new zealand) or read alan duff’s book of the same name…

lve

t

This is probably one of the most bland writings I have ever read. One bland paragraph follows another in a monotonous tone. The sense of power and anguish has passed it by miles. It’s a total bore! The writer has no emotional feelings into it, or more likely, cannot convey her feelings through her writing.

This essay starts as if it were a movie review (btw, the movie mentioned in the essay has absolutely no connection to the follow-up the writer is about to embark!) rather than an essay on the pain of an immigrant going through life thinking about the familiar environment she left behind and is now living an environment that is entirely alien to her.

This essay makes sweeping generalizations: What does it mean by “we all”? Speak for yourself, Ms. Writer!

A better writer would have left us feeling numb with anguish and an indescribable pain of lost childhood in a setting that cannot be retrieved in an alien land. “Ramblings On The Fence,” on the other hand, doesn’t do anything, except that it makes one feels one has wasted his time reading it.

Immigrants relatively free from pull of *home* are the ones who`ve find people and ideas they can relate to in their adopted homelands. As a global citizen, it doesn`t matter if you are born in Lahore or Montreal as long as you share the same values. It`s entirely possible to spend one`s entire lifetime in Karachi and yet have more in common with an American from the midwest.

The unhappy immigrants are mostly those who`ve cocooned themselves into a familiar world of desi potluck dinners, bollywood movies and cricket on Dish TV. When these things don`t excite them anymore, the pull of *home* gets difficult to ignore. Surely America has divisions but which place doesn`t? Only the categories change. Our generation never really had to face any major upheavel in our lifetime. The life changing question for most of us was......medicine or enginneering, Emirates or PIA, rare or well-done. Things have a funny way of changing priorities. One can deal with them by turning inwards as this article suggests or by turning outwards as others would. Its individual choices.

later
-sac

Nice but brief article. While the US may be a great `melting pot`, I think it was former President K R Narayanan who wrote that India was a `mosaic`. People of various communities live together, but retain their identities. Whereas, in the US, second generation immigrants give up their mother-tongue and most of their culture and take on the `American` culture. However, I dont think the melting pot will successfully `melt` people from the Indian sub-continent.

Jawahara,

Good to see you back!

Over here:
I don`t know what its like outside of NYC anymore...but I imagine its not pretty. My bro copes by having his study group/friends- a bunch of smarty pants musicians of all backgrounds who can discuss the Patriot Act II, organise in the suburbs while delineating the finer points of Led Zep.

It is hard, and its getting even harder. I dont remember the US being this crazy; anyone who argues with that can visit Tom Ridge`s safety website at www.hyterics.gov... apparently we`ve got to fight for our making our homes here...

Hi Jawahara:
What you say could refer to anyone who feels `disoriented` by life`s ironies and vagaries. The fence is not always a precarious outsider`s dilemma...`home` too can leave you pretty sore-assed. The conflict arises when we try hard to belong and to make our surroundings our own when they might not be meant for us...

Just feeling a bit low I guess :( But, nice essay and, hey, the fence can be a great adventure too; it never lets you guess your age!

Farzana

=== Interact Filtered ===
view this users filtered interacts

JS,

such thoughts exist in the minds of most immigrants. I certainly

have not found a more flexible way of looking into this dilemma but let

me just add this:

A friend of mine took his family ``home`` to Pakistan to see how they

like it. It was great for a few weeks but then his American born 10 year

old asked him a strange question: ``Dad, when are we going home?``

That is the question my kids will ask. I just know it.

Ras

interesting article...
as an immigrant, I`ve grappled with the notion of home and identity for many years. read about it in post-colonial literature classes, written a poem and stories about it. And since my first home is a country where I was often made not to feel at home, and my second, America, where often it is difficult not to feel isolated, and away from home, I decided that my identity--who i am as a person--should not, and need not be tied to a place. The Pakistan I knew will never be the same again, the America I live in keeps surprising me every day. And while it`s difficult not to think in terms of us and them even more so these days...for me, home is more a state of mind, home for me in the temporal world is a person...that is where i find my middle ground with the fence torn down.

some thoughts about `melting pot`....
just the word conjures up the first scene in Macbeth...but seriously, I just find the term melting pot revolting...it`s a term obviously coined by WASP`s for non-WASP`s to jump in and blend into their particular mixture. Diversifying is one thing...going into a melting pot and peeling off layers and layers of yourself to become someone or something else is something completely different.

Very nice. One of your best articles.

``On that razor-wire edge, tenuous and slender, surely there is a place where America and home converge.``

There is such a place. It is called Toronto :-)

I think people give on migrations too quickly. In my book, either one is at home (place of birth) or one is an immigrant (doesn`t matter which country one is in). Once someone has immigrated, one should be willing to go the whole distance, i.e. keep migrating until one finds, ``the razor-wire edge`` you have mentioned. I am sure it is out there somewhere. And I plan to find it. If I cannot find it, then I will return to Pakistan, on retirement, and leave my kids in Canada (which is the closest I have reached to this, ``edge,`` so far).

After Canada, it will be UAE, then maybe somewhere else......

Just keep in mind that the, ``them`` is a passing phenomenon. Based on this, I am not quite sure why Bush and Saddam are fighting so much. Arabs and Goras are an endangered species. In the coming future, the whole world will be South Asian and Chinese. And the country where this phenonemon has already started is Canada......

Nice essay, Jawahara! Good to see you back at Chowk. This theme has been dealt with quite a lot in many essays and novels. The British Asian community always voices the fact that the ``home`` their parents long for no longer exists - it is nostalgia for the past, which erupts when one faces difficult circumstances in the present. I guess it`s a psychological phenomenon that makes us return, in our minds, to places where we felt safe when we are not feeling quite so secure in real life. Some people turn that into an obsession and thus are never happy in the present moment, but when they go back ``home`` and it doesn`t match up to their memories, they find themselves forever dissatisfied with both reality and fantasy.