(Images courtesy of Indrani Adhikari)
(Images courtesy of Indrani Adhikari)

In Experience: Reflections of a Settler

It’s all in the reflections. This account is one of my fondly revisited ones, a space for self-discovery and conscience.

Aah, I’m exhausted! It was half past two on a Delhi late August summer afternoon in 2021 when I was attending one of my tutorial classes at my college. These sessions were calming ones where we would think about life and sort of relax through such reflections. In the hustle and bustle of assignments and deadlines, I sometimes lost the excitement of these sessions as a result.

So, this circle of informal questions quickly shifted to me, and I, at that moment, was completely baffled by the line of questioning. Seeing this, the teacher asked, “What’s the most striking difference between your place and here?” 

Without even thinking, I quickly answered, “Infrastructure and maybe nothing else.” It might have been the most absurd answer she’d ever heard, but it was thankfully enough as the class dispersed, and I was left with a question. 

It was probably regret that crawled up on me, so much that I could hardly think of anything else beyond that question whenever I would travel through my place and Delhi. Like a sense of being lost in observation. Being someone who always loved to observe the uncanniness in their surroundings, it made me more aware of the circumstances, the nuances of communication, gestures and the degree of proximity. 

Okay, so let me quickly peel away the layers of silence and say it out loud that there indeed is an array of differences in the regions. To begin with, Assam, the eastern state, is a rainbow of warm-hearted people belonging to distinctive ethnicities; some of them have inhabited these lands and some have flocked in during the past two centuries. Now, they are coming to Delhi, the land that kindled hopes in millions of aspirants to finally hit a milestone in their career. It’s also ethnically diverse and inhabited by the majority of these aspiring populations. 

How can I not express the most striking reason for my discontent, which is that the food of the Eastern States, this palace of rice, undoubtedly has my heart? Well, Delhi has its own variance in serving comfort foods, but what made me kinda sick within the two months of my initial stay in Delhi was the resilient roti culture. Still, I countered it over time and developed a fondness for some traditional North Indian dishes like “kadhi chawal” and the very tender thin “rumali roti.”

On the streets, I see an abundance of greenery and, hiding in it, stories of penance and sometimes grief. This landscape sustains tales of livelihoods where every day is a struggle to make ends meet. Still, the lands do not align with the competition to tread upon the lives of one another. It is implicitly integrated into the idea of being that, in every way, there is a placid display of diversity. 

The settlers of my eastern homeland preserve a simple but magnificent culture where one can find fresh vegetable markets and brightly blue skies. One that caters for its people in “kaah” (the bell metal used to make utensils), “muga” (muga silk), and that greets one with the “gamusa,” (a woven scarf with distinct embroidery patterns.). Enchanting wall carvings and fantastically lit elaborate markets make Delhi in itself the most vibrant capital of the world to experience life and people in. The street corners are animated with students and doorways to the metro are full of hawkers and a brigade of auto drivers who are ready to even take one “to the moon.”

It is only in the humanities and liberal arts that we capitalise on the idea of learning and thinking, cultivating skills for empathetic understanding. It is in exploring these phases of my journey that I started considering things that are seldom asked. But as I should say, they do hold relevance as they become significant throughout the experiences, and give more context to someone’s story.

All in all, it was a contrasting vision that was important to help me touch the nodes of reality, somewhere where there was not only a beginning but also closure. Feeling at home, reclining to all the familiar essence of it, needs imagination. And this is one that has now become very intricately intertwined with the idea of both places. Maybe the shared idea of belongingness rents this “liking” space in my heart. Now, even though I have no permanent residence to establish here, I trust that the familiarity of the region keeps home in a close embrace.

Now that my experiences have handed me a platter full of unique exposures, I regard this as an invaluable archive of memories. These memories will stay and colour new horizons of thought and provide me with a deeper contrasting tapestry of insights. In retrospect, to my response, our professor, I would say, “Ah how embarrassing!”

Thank you to Julianna Wages on the Lifestyle & Relationships team for her inspired edits on this piece.

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Yuvoice uplifts diverse voices around the world. We focus on perspectives of real people living through history and how Planet Earth looks through their eyes. We never necessarily endorse, promote, or agree with the pieces we publish. We want to showcase viewpoints of all types. Please check out our Statement of Global Progress for further information on our stance. And if you’ve enjoyed this piece, please drop a comment and support the author!

 

Hey, my name is Indrani. I am a writer. I love writing and shaping stories and narratives, fueling my imagination with the episodes of my emotions and experiences. I share a keen interest in storytelling and podcasting and look forward to documenting and sharing my experiences through text and alternative mediums. As a humanitarian who envisions the world being full of diversity, I wish to connect with people through my stories

 

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