"Beta, did you finish your shtudies?"
"Rinku, are you saving your money?"
"Pinku, have you found someone yet?"
"Tinku, are you really eating meat?"
These are a few questions Indians face everyday. Moreover, they lay the impenetrable foundation for a lifetime of fear.
Indians in America must live up to a certain expectation. First generation immigrants have a chip on their shoulder about leaving their homeland. Family still residing in India will think of their American family differently no matter how "Indian" they remain. Thus, Indians in America frequently feel the need to be SUPER Indians. This causes further division as India was originally a country full of warring kingdoms. So, in actuality, Indian parents want their children to fall in-line with the region they are from. And so it goes from region to state to city to village until the exact personal insecurities of an Indian-American parent is forcing their child to marry her second cousin.
Sound absurd? Go up to the next Shradha you know, and ask her to describe her ideal husband. If she doesn't give you a description that's more detailed than the DSM IV, our new intern, Aunim, will go without sleep for 3 days.
Fear of not being in the top 5% of your high school class (while not knowing how to operate central air-conditioning). Fear of not becoming a doctor (while being a callous prick who would never be a doctor for free). Fear of not making enough cash (while buying an automatic 3 series BMW that never gets taken care of).
Lies result from this constant fear. They are not always blatant lies (although they often are), but the continuous posturing to show one's resume-self and not one's real-self strains the young Indian American until he takes his vodka cranberry aggression out on petite ameet (This isn't right no matter how much it is deserved).
So, my fellow ABCDs, stop being afraid, stop listening to your parents' paranoia, and start listening to Matthew Santos, Kanye West, Billy Bragg, Nas, Mighty Casey, and Chester French.
Wow, this blog got preachy.