Truth and Reconciliation

I have consistently failed to be able to reconcile the different realities that have been the setting to my recent experiences. Returning to India I spent the first few days in Delhi, with my family. At first it kept me restless. I didn’t know how to reconcile this reality, my background, with the other I was living for most of my time here in India last year. Working in rural Himalaya, the villages I lived in became almost as familiar to me as any other home. In comparison, these villagers have less, their lives harder, their opportunities fewer. Yet engaging in these communities, working together, there was meaningful action towards a common goal.

When I returned to the US last September I found myself in a similar predicament. I struggled to make sense of the different realities I had so intensely given myself to, and what it meant to be back home. So far I have found myself resigned to the idea of not being able to reconcile such different worlds. While they both exist, both very real and indeed connected, I have accepted that my interactions in these places are different, and can be at times contradictory. I understand that I must carry on in each however, having a foot in each world, struggling to understand my role as I pursue my own passions and search for my own meaning. And this too is a privilege, but one I reckon I should embrace.

These recurring discussions come as I barrel through the countryside, packed ever-so tightly on a train towards Ahmedabad. Michael Jackson in the headphones, I smile whenever a glimpse is afforded of the blue seats filled with my countrymen and women. We joke, in a way that makes me feel we all are actually in this together. India and its people, always vibrant and full of commentary. It’s already sweaty and sticky, and only February. The heat hasn’t kicked in yet. Just give it another week. And as I sit here squashed between more bodies than I can see or count, maybe the key is embracing the best of all worlds, wherever we may come from, and wherever we may go. There is value and wisdom wherever one is open to finding it.

And while certainly not nearly as serious as genocide in Rwanda, civil war in El Salvador or apartheid in South Africa, truth and reconciliation remains an ongoing process in this journey. The truth remains I am privileged, I believe in working for justice, and I love to revel in the comfort that at times seems like many of us are born addicted to. They all partly define this journey and are never new thoughts. For me personally, it’s about striking a balance in a world of extremes. And hopefully finding new insights.

The Return of Masala Justice

In a matter of days I will be returning to the motherland to once more dive into the masala. And while it won’t exactly be the India that most of us see from abroad, the India crystallized through Bollywood scenes, the magic that permeates the air (real and on the screen) originates in the country’s heart.

Flowing through the veins and arteries in the fields and villages, through the urban centers amongst the throngs, that’s where you can find the magic. The stuff both dreams, and reality are made of. Over the next five months I hope to once more be taken hold by that heart.

Partnered with Indicorps, I will be embarking on a project that will take me across the subcontinent. I will be visiting ten NGOs Indicorps has partnered with over ten fellowship classes. Conducting an assessment of sorts, I will be penning narratives from each. By capturing stories from each organization, reflecting on the Indicorps philosophy and experience, and interacting with communities across the country I hope the culmination of this project will help to engage the development community and Diaspora in a discussion regarding the importance of youth service and leadership in India’s development. I hope to further explore the transformative nature of intense service, and the value of collective struggle.

It’s another journey into the true heart of India and into the hearts of those who believe in something more than your average Bollywood/Hollywood film. So this is the preview. Picture it as well as you can, choreographed dance scenes included. Of countless hours on trains, and more villages than I can name. The changing landscapes and unexpected plot twists. But really it’s the people that make the film worth watching. All of those who aren’t our average Bollywood heroes and heroines. There is much to be learned from these places and people, about humility, and struggle, and laughter. What keeps us going is the inspiration in the air, the belief that there is something more out there beyond material comforts and packaged re-affirmations. Oh yeah, and it’s going to be hot.

This past September, after spending 14 months in India I returned home to the United States. Five months in suburbia have certainly highlighted the disparities in mindsets from one place to another. It is these changes in mentality that are much more interesting than any sort of difference in standards of comfort. The next five months on the move will certainly present another reality. These two extremes have come to define my life over the past couple years, but the opportunity to once more embrace the struggle excites me. It’s not just breaking out of my own comfort, or navigating living with contradiction. It is also the larger, more pressing idea of struggle; the struggle for dignity, for justice, for sustainable, inclusive communities.

In a matter of days I will be returning. What guides me from still so far is the film’s tagline. It’s the tagline for the struggle, the personal, the public, the belief that another world is possible. It reads below the glossy cover image (you choose, the dark, mystical rural landscape that holds all your deepest fears and hopes, the blurry train in motion on its epic journey , or the rain drenched hero with his dismantled ego beside him). “The heart is a muscle the size of your fist. Keep fighting. Keep loving.”

It’s just a matter of hours now. It’s time. Keep reading.