As an Indian with a rich heritage of writers, artists, and musicians, I have always been fascinated by learning more about my roots. I am a Bengali who was born in India but was raised all around the world. My parents made it a point to teach me about my ancestors and all the people who have shaped me today. From the day I started forming memories, my mother would tell me stories of my family, how she was raised, and all the cousins, aunts, and uncles who just lived in the world of art. So, on a rainy day when I couldn’t go out and play, my mom would sit me down and the stories of my heritage would begin.
I was born in India, to a simple middle-class working family, my mother is a retired school teacher and my father was a diplomat. My paternal grandfather is a retired diplomat and so my father carried on the family tradition. When I was two, my parents and I moved to Brussels, Belgium where I started my preschool. At an early age, I was always curious about how I looked different, that my parents spoke a different language at home, to sometimes my mother gave me a confused look if I said something that didn't quite make sense to her. But, one thing that always stayed consistent, that would help me understand my roots, was her stories about where we came from.
Brussels would sometimes have gloomy, rainy days, my father would proceed to go to his job and it would be my mother and me at home. I was a restless child, I would watch cartoons or play with my toys, but I would easily get bored. I remember my mother would sit down with me and start with “Did you know my grandfather worked in the railways?”, I would turn to her as she would weave these stories. From explaining how my great-grandfather worked in India when we were still a British colony.
As I got older, this piece of my history, my heritage was starting to be woven into me. When I started to take an interest in creative writing in High School in San Francisco, I seemed a bit lost, “Would I be able to write creatively? Do I know how to write?” When I told my mother this, she looked at me and said “It's in your blood! Of course, you can!” and proceeded to tell me the story of Rabindranath Tagore, who was distantly related to my father's side of the family. So naturally, when I won my first short story writing competition, the first thing my mother exclaimed was “Of course, we are Bengalis we are known to be writers!” It felt like I had not only made my parents proud but my culture and heritage as well.Having the privilege of having my parents and my grandfather tell me about my heritage and culture has helped me appreciate my roots and my culture. It is the one topic where I can pause time and just sit and read about how my great-great-grandparents lived and how different cultural influences shaped the way that we are today. Being a third culture child, a child who spent her childhood in so many different countries where she was the only Bengali in her class, shaped the person that I am today. To this day, if my mother starts her stories about how my great-great-grandmother had once seen a ghost in her garden, or how my mother had moved to Zambia in the 1980s, I still pause anything that I am doing and I will sit and listen. It doesn't matter how many times I have heard that story, or that I know where the turning point comes in, all that matters is that this is a piece of history that is mine that I am proud of.
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