My hubby happens to be a software man. And once I had to (well not really had to, rather willingly) accompany him to US for two years. It was then that I came across this serious psychological issue- 'sense of belonging'. Friends and people back in Kolkata kept insisting that I cannot feel at home in that foreign country because there is no sense of belonging. I was left thinking, is it really so? I could not dare say that I was enjoying myself in that country in fear of being labelled "Typical NRI Syndrome". Its true I never wanted to settle there down but to be truthful there was no such dilemma called sense of belonging either. Or rather lack of it. I tried retrospecting and analyzing the matter.
I hail from the famous (or infamous) small town Jhumri Telaiya. It happened to be a part of Bihar and in 1999-2000 came under Jharkhand. For a while, I thought where do I belong to? Jharkhand or Bihar? We originally belong to Pabna,a town in Bangladesh. I took it rather offensively if someone called me 'ghoti'- people belonging to West Bengal instead of calling me 'Bangal'- the Bangladeshis. But this fact of origin does not stir the emotion of patriotism for Bangladesh nor do I feel something special on 21st February. Another clash on question of belonging!
My surname is Mazumdar. We were originally the Mishras from Kannauj who later became Bagchi and eventually received the title "Mazumdar". So, if traced long back and adhere to the theory, may be we were not Bengalis at all, something my Ma does not prefer being related to. Yet another clash about belonging!
I must mention another 'sensitive' issue. As mentioned before, Mazumdar is a title given to the landlords. Anybody, brahmin or kayashtha could receive this title. Now, Brahmins were rarely the landlords, and my ancestors were one of those rare few. Till 2005, that is till I got married, it never bothered me whether I'm a Brahmin or non Brahmin, it does not bother me today either. Being Brahin never helped or paid me in any way. But suddenly after my marriage to a 'Bhattacharjee' I came across statements like "You were Mazumdar- so you got married to a brahmin?" I found myself offended at it and snapping back, "We are Brahmins too."
Then there was the eternal issue of belonging faced by every Indian woman- change of surname after marriage. Suddenly I was Bhattacharjee. A 24 year old habit was supposed to change overnight- a decision I took against my wish. Till date, after almost six years of my marriage, my kid brother frowns each time he sees Bhattacharjee attached to my name. His looks make me all the more conscious about "sense of belonging".
And finally- the epitome of this sense or non sense of belonging or rather lack of it- my stay in Kolkata- a city I disliked with all my might. My fate (or ill-fate?) dragged me to this city. I hoped to complete my graduation and then leave the blasted city for my higher education. But again fate had something else in its store. More I wanted to get rid of Kolkata, even more I got stuck. And what more, I myself decided to marry someone from this city closing all my doors of escape! So now I belong to a city where I do not belong to. I cannot like this city ever from heart and mind due to several reasons which are multiplying everyday.
I will definitely not want to go back to Telaiya, my hometown and am desperately insisting my parents to shift to, well again Kolkata, the nearest big city where they can get medical attention when required. My father shares same sentiment about the city and finds nothing good about it except cutlets and Mughlai paratha but has succumbed to our pressure. So in matter of years I’ll lose contact with the only city to which I could connect to, though to a very little extent.
So when it comes to the sense of belonging, I feel completely rootless. There is no place which I can call mine. I often think of Ghalib’s couplet-
Zahid-e-tang nazar ne mujhe qafir jana
Aur qafir yeh samajhta hai ki musalman hoon main.
How could I call a city my own which has always ridiculed me for hailing from Bihar or Jharkhand, turned down my eager sister’s repeated attempts to get through one college just because she came from a Hindi medium school or where my calm and quiet father was caught by some goon like taxi drivers? On the contrary, though the small unknown town Waukesha in Wisconsin of US did not welcome me with open arms yet I have no bitter memories of that place. I’ve enjoyed our very own Durga Puja most in that town. Yes, even more than Kolkata. Rather I feel out of place in the Kolkata crowd where I don’t know anyone while in that foreign town it used to be a small venue where everybody I knew gathered.
At this stage of my life, I’m afraid I don’t think I’ll settle in a new town, city or country and develop this sense afresh. So, NRI syndrome or no NRI syndrome, a place belongs to me if enjoy the life there, get peace of mind and can relate to. It can be USA, it can be Jhumri Telaiya. I can only long to belong but no sense of belonging can work for me- the rootless.
