Am I Indian-American or not?
India may be renamed Bharat. As a second-generation Indian-American, I was left speechless.
I had many reactions to finding out the news on TikTok, of all places. At first, I thought this was a joke, perhaps clickbait. Somewhat in shock, I quickly brushed it off and moved on. The same topic reappeared. More clickbait? I moved on and again, another TikTok about India becoming Bharat.
Surely, I thought, this isn’t a coincidence? My head was spinning. For some reason, my body was shaking. I’ve never felt like this before. I could feel my throat closing up, the tears struggling to stay contained. Then I was in denial. Could the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) wipe away centuries of partisan history with one simple name change?
Editors Note: Indian President Droupadi Murmu’s invitation to G20 summit leaders for a reception she was hosting, referring to herself as President of Bharat, sparked a row. The Economic Times reported that the government is seeking a resolution to change India’s official name to Bharat during a special session of Parliament scheduled for September 18-22.
Shame
In recent times, the BJP-led government has purposefully renamed cities linked to the Mughal period, changing Allahabad to Prayagraj, and Ahmedabad to Karnavati. Even though I was aware of these changes, I’m ashamed to admit that at the time, I didn’t care. I never gave any thought to how those name changes could make others feel.
Bharat is a Sanskrit word found in the Vishnu Purana (a Hindu text), meaning the country that “lies to the north of the ocean and to the south of the snowy mountains.” About 1 in 6 Indians are Muslim. They trace their lineage back to India for centuries. But with this move, one in six Indians may find their history and identity wiped away with one simple word: Bharat.
With this final push, the BJP-led government may be erasing Mughal and colonial history for good, turning India into a Hindu-centric nation with emerging religious nationalism.
Guilt
My family is Hindu, and although I do not particularly identify with my religion, I felt a pang of guilt. The BJP is rewriting history. They defend their actions by stating that the term “India” was coined by colonial rulers centuries ago. They don’t want the country to be identified by a name associated with a symbol of colonial slavery.
I immediately thought of my non-Hindu Indian-American friends. Where do they fall on this spectrum? Would they have a place to call their ethnic origin?
Anger
The Indian government has called for a special parliamentary session on September 18-22, but has not released an official agenda leading to much speculation about the possible name change of the country. A 2⁄3 parliamentary approval is required to amend the Constitution of India.
I was enraged by this decision. I went down a Google “rabbit hole” trying to find more information to piece together the whole story, to find a rationale that made sense. I could not understand why I felt so passionate about this issue. I am not even from India. I was born and raised in America. I felt unable to talk about this with my friends or my family.
Why did I feel such an emotional reaction to this issue?
Grief
Toward the end of my grief journey, I realized that I was not grieving the loss of the name “India,” I was grieving the loss of my identity.
I am a second-generation Indian-American. That’s who I am. I grew up in Tennessee. That is what everyone saw in their first impression of me. I was bullied for being the only person of color in my elementary school years. I remember asking my parents, “Why don’t we do normal American things, like celebrating the 4th of July, hosting barbecue parties, and celebrating Easter?”
They always had the same response: “You are American, yes, but you are also Indian. Always be proud of where you come from, and always embrace your culture.”
I grew up celebrating Diwali, celebrating Holi, and even celebrating Iftar with my Indian Muslim friends.
When people asked me where I was from, I said the South. “No, but where are you actually from?”
I always replied, “India,” with pride.
Where do I belong?
What might seem like a simple name change, from India to Bharat, is wiping away millions of people’s identities. My non-Hindu Indian friends may not find a home in the name Bharat. Where do they belong?
The name India represents partisanship, originating from the Indus River that runs from Tibet to Pakistan, paying homage to the Persians that named the river. I was proud of that one simple act of partisanship. And to me, the name India represents hope: hope that one day, religious conflict in South Asia will be resolved.
So what am I? Who am I? Indian-American? Bharati-American? I lie in the gray area in between, unsure of where I fall, and where I will belong.
