How many of you here remember the Washing Powder Nirma jingle? Or the iconic Vicks Ki Goli ad? Here in India, we seem to love tags. They help us remember, recognize and understand. They’re catchy and funny. Today, I’m going to be narrating 2 small anecdotes from my life – instances where I felt nothing more than a just a tag.

Delhi was not the paradise my family thought it’d be. My parents were struggling to get me into a good school. One day, they happened to approach this school called Tagore International. The principal greeted us warmly, asked us if we wanted tea, asked me if I wanted to play, to which I responded no, because, well that's what I was told to say, and she proceeded to ask us more about our family. It was here that she found out that we had just moved from Jharkhand. With a concerned yet condescending smile on her face, she asked us how I would comprehend the English spoken here. She asked me to take “elective” classes. My parents were speechless. Distraught, they walked out of the room with nothing but a pen from the office.

You know, it's wonderful to have people so genuinely concerned for you, and it's only here, in this country riddled with stereotypes, with people so bigoted, that it actually matters where you’re from, rather than where you want to go.

Fast forward to some years later, I’m in my mess having a very interesting conversation with this very interesting character. Nonchalantly, I told him I was dating a Tamilian. He was shocked. He asked me how I'm "managing". Confused, I asked him what he meant. He replied, "Look, it's a simple question. Are you okay with eating dosa 4 times a day on the floor? They’re very strange people. Couldn’t you have found someone better? I’ve heard so much about these South Delhi girls. Why can’t you just find someone like that?" I was appalled, but just looked him dead in the eye, took a large chunk of the dosa he was eating, and walked away.

Somehow, his bigotry and ignorance didn’t seem to bother me. I recalled the meeting my parents had with that principal. The pride my parents felt when I was the topped my school in English, the same subject I was so bound to fail in…. I remember wanting to ask the principal to sit on the same pen she'd so generously donated and just… rotate. Similarly, this guy here didn’t know what he was talking about, because, well –

A. I love Dosas, and I’d have them for my last meal if I could and

B. I knew for a fact that he had not interacted with anyone but his right hand in the last 2 years.

So how did these two perfect examples of racists in India, with absolutely no reference and no proof, come to their wonderful assumptions? These stories, isolated as they may seem, have one thing in common – people generalizing and compartmentalizing cultures into these neat little divisions, so that it’s easier for us to understand.

But here’s the thing – people are complex beings and they have incredible depth. Our culture stays strong after centuries of the British Raj – a culture curated absolutely enthralling. The people who discriminate and generalize so systematically are the same people who believe that if they share this message 5 times, their crush will text them at 11:11PM exactly!

I believe that vulnerability is the greatest emotion you can have. It’s only when you open yourself up to different people from different places, its only when you let new light enter your life, do you grow as a person. Don’t buy into the same rhetoric everyone wants you to – know that you’re an absolutely unique amalgamation of culture, value, and circumstance, and no matter where you’re from, you can be whoever you want to be.