Radio Chthulucene 87.9 FM

I used to have a much stronger connection to my mother tongue. Hindi was my first language, and all that I spoke until about the age of 5. My parents immigrated to the United States after they got married, and soon after, I was born. My mother used to tell me how important it was to stay rooted to our culture, but it was one that I hardly identified with for a large portion of my life, arguably the most pivotal portion. I grew up in a very small, very un-diverse town in the Middle of Nowhere, Massachusetts. Culture, to me, was snapbacks and Vineyard Vines. It was my greatest fear to be anything but ordinary.

My parents would often put on Bollywood movies when I was little, before I had an understanding of what that meant in itself. I danced carelessly to every song. I grieved the loss of that little girl (when did I start being embarrassed by my own identity?) I grieved the loss of the hopes my mother pinned on me to carry out our legacy.

Dictee illustrates a wide variety of language, something I felt inspired by. It took many years of assimilating to small-town culture and many more to grow out of that space of shame and fear. I wish I hadn’t lost so much of myself in the process, but it seemed unavoidable at the time. Perhaps it was all for a reason, that somehow it was known that I would find my way back to myself. I feel ashamed of the way I would hide from the truth, as if accepting the way I am was the most dangerous thing to do. I hold some resentment for that piece of myself, but I’ve worked on forgiving her; she didn’t know any better. It’s freeing to not want to hide anymore.