Indian families are some of the most quirky and dramatic (reference the movie Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham) ones on the planet but they’re equally as loving and caring. Here are 10 things about Indian families that we just can’t help, but love and hate!
1. How your dad would go on and on during his “When I was a kid” stories.
Hearing your father recount how he used to walk to school as a child and play cricket with his friends after school seemed annoying when you were a kid, because you were preoccupied with your own childhood problems. Now you relish in those “boring” stories, because you find yourself savoring your own childhood memories and now you can understand why your parents kept telling you to enjoy being a little kid with no responsibilities.
2. Your mom’s home-cooked food.
“We’re eating daal again?” The number of times you used to complain about eating your mother’s home-cooked Indian meals is countless. As soon as you left home, however, you realized that you would give anything for a taste of your favorite home-cooked dish, because let’s be real—after eating pizza and pasta continuously for weeks you would not mind having the very same daal that you used to hate.
3. The overabundance of relatives you have in India.
Trips to India as a kid were either really fun or really annoying. Either way, you did not understand why you had to go to each and every one of your relatives’ houses to say hello and drink chai. Now you appreciate that you have so many people who love you and you treasure the moments you spend with family you have back in India, because they keep you tied to your motherland.
4. How your parents would nag you to do household chores
Indian parents definitely win the first place prize for greatest naggers on the planet. Back in the day, they would scream your name at the top of their lungs and insist that you clean your room, do the laundry or wash the dishes, and you hated it. The wonderful result of that is that now you are a little more prepared to live on your own as an adult!
5. How your parents forced you to try multiple extracurricular activities
Your Indian parents always made sure that you were engaged in some activity to keep you busy. This was frustrating as a child, because it seemed like your parents were trying to force their interests on you, but now that you have mastered that activity you are so happy that your family kept you well-rounded.
6. How they seem to care too much about where you are and what you’re doing
You would be lying if you said your parents have never sent you multiple “Where are you?” texts even after you already told them where you are going and who you will be with before you left the house. Sure this would get on your nerves as a teenager, but now you understand how their constant inquisitiveness was just another way of expressing their care for you.
7. How strict your parents are
Whether you feared your mother’s angry tone or your father’s disapproving look, there was no doubt that your parents’ stern behavior had you chilled to the bones. Their strictness was restraining at times and made you envy your non-desi friends, whose lenient parents did not seem to care at all what they did. Nonetheless, you are now glad that they were strict, because you know it made you into the well-grounded person you are today and prevented you from getting into serious trouble as a child.
8. How they tend to constantly criticize you
Your family is always the first to tell you exactly what you are doing wrong and Indian families especially never have any reservations about being harsh. While this can be hurtful at times you are thankful that your family always pushed you to be the best you can be!
9. How they try to give you home remedies for your sicknesses
Indians are the masters of home remedies and usually resort to medicine only after they have tried all the weird looking and funky tasting concoctions that their grandmother’s mother once said would work. As a child, you were hesitant to swallow that hajmola or slurp down that green colored drink that your mom made by mixing completely random ingredients. Now, you are happy that your family introduced you to those Indian herbal remedies, because most of the time they work!
10. How cheap they can be when it comes to shopping
You know you are Indian when all of your relatives seem to have been born with this innate knack for bargaining. As a 12-year-old you felt embarrassed by the fact that your family was always looking for discounts, but as an adult you are so glad that your family taught you to be frugal.
What other things about Indian families do you appreciate now that you are all grown up? Comment below!
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Shilpa Prasad is currently a pre-med student at Boston University. In her free time she loves to dance, read and binge-watch TV shows! Her goal as a writer for Brown Girl Magazine is to connect with girls all around the world by sharing her own unique experiences and ideas.
February 1, 2023March 7, 2023 3min readBy Varsha Panikar
Photo Courtesy of Varsha Panikar
“After so Long” is a poetry film created for Simha’s EP, which is streaming on Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon Music. The poem was collaboratively written by Simha, a U.S. native, and Jae, who is based in India, during the 2020 lockdown. “After so Long” was recited by Simha and their parents. In 2022, I directed and produced the film through my studio, Star Hopper. “After so Long” premiered on Nowness Asia in March 2022.
This film is a worldwide collaboration among trans and queer south-Asian artists from the United States, India and Canada. It was recorded, shot and filmed during the lockdown of 2020 and 2021.
Jae:
Awake at 10 am but out of bed at noon,
I want to be here where I lose myself in these sheets
Glancing through half-shut eyes
At the gold pressing past my window
The glimmer remarks on the ledge of my bed
But the voices are so loud
Like dust collecting in the corner of my room
I am unaware to why I’m still here
With the chilling doubt of the breeze…
I’m swept into lucidity After so long
Dad:
Mil rahi hoon mein aaj iske saang barso baad,
(Today, I’ll be meeting them after so long)
Koi paata nahi diya tune
(But with no destination sight,)
Kya karu?
(What should I do?)
Kaha jau?
(Where should I go?)
Shayad agar mein chalne lagoon,
(Perhaps, if I keep walking)
Inn yaadon ki safar mein
(Down this road of memories)
Mujhe samajh mein ayega,
(I will find out)
Yeh rasta kahaan jayega,
(Where this road leads)
Inn aari tedhi pakadandiyon pe baarte hi jaana hai,
(Through the twists and turns of this winding roads, I must keep going on)
Mujhe mil na hain aaj uske saath,
(I wish to meet them today)
Barso baad.
(After so long)
Simha:
I feel like I’m retracing my footsteps
From these concrete stretches
To broken cement walls
Chips and cracks forge their way for new designs
I see the old abandoned buildings
That once held the warmth of bodies
Now just hold memories
Supporting the nature’s resilience
In vines and moss
After so long
Mom:
Dhoondli shishe mein jaaga leli hai
(These isty mirrors have offered refuge)
Bikhri hui laatao ne,
(To these scattered vines)
Zameen pe uchi ghaas pe
(Amidst the tall grass stretching from the ground)
Lehrati kamsan kaliyaa
(The swaying little buds)
Bheeni bheeni khushboo bikhereti
(Spreading honeysuckle scent through the air)
Phir wahi mausam,
(I lose myself in reminiscing, the same season)
Wahi dil,
(The same heart)
Baarso baad.
(After so long)
Phir bhi mein chal rahi hoon aaj
(Still, I keep carrying on today)
Khudko khudse milane ke liye
(In the pursuit of my higher self)
Inn galiyo se guzarna hain aaj
(I must pass through these streets today)
Chaalte chaale jaana hai aaj
(I must keep going on today)
Kabhi hum milenge kisi mor paar
(Someday, we’ll meet again, somewhere on this road)
barso baad
(After so long)
Kabhi hum milenge kisi mor pe
(Someday, we’ll meet again, somewhere on this road)
barso baad
(After so long)
The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.
I organize play dates for my children. They’re friendships remind me of when I was younger when Fridays were consistently set aside for my friends. Now, it seems play is indeed meant for childhood and work is for aging adults. We often can’t find time for ourselves, let alone our friends, who are busy working mothers like ourselves. Or we moved into unreachable corners of this globe, far away from any means of physical communication. It’s fair to say, it’s hard to stay close to friends like when we were in college. Nowadays, it’s easier to travel, but more difficult to bond with others. “My Friend” asserts that we should not end let our friendships fall by the wayside. Even with physical distance and conflicting schedules, we keep our friendships close with kind words on phone calls, regular FaceTime calls, or even encouraging social media comments. Friendship doesn’t end once we become adults.
The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.
“Take what you want//Take everything” reflects on a time with my partner and our cat, Layla. It’s a retelling of the chaotic night I adopted her. I didn’t know why Layla hid from me. When I chased her around, it scared her more. “Take what you want//Take everything” juxtaposes our first night, filled with misunderstanding, with the rest of the time we spent together. My fond memories call back to the loving moments Layla and I shared.
Such memories defined us; they reverberated in my partnership. I wonder if my partner, like Layla, only remembers her fear of me, over our shared moments of love. The title, a Kanye West lyric, is an acknowledgment that their happiness together–without me–destroyed my sense of self. When I see their photos, I wonder if I can see myself reflected in their eyes. I wonder if they still keep kind moments of our time together.
I remember when she would look at me from behind a laundry basket.
A small simple cat with green owl eyes. She was afraid of her new home and its owner. Shit, I remember the night I got her, she hid under my bed, in the middle just out of my reach for maybe 6 hours, watching me. She didn’t eat anything the entire day. When the night fell I was afraid she’d starve or come out and attack me. I was just scared. I didn’t have a childhood pet, I’m not white, I didn’t know what to do. I picked up the whole bed and yelled that she needed to move. I chased her into the closet with a vacuum cleaner. When she ran in, I called my lover and yelled to her that she wasn’t helping enough, she needed to be there to help me. That was our first day together, me and that cat. No one will ever have that memory but me and maybe her.
It was during Ramadan, my first year fasting.
Our problems had already begun by then. Enough so that I decided to fast and show retribution. I’d try to change into a more patient and understanding self. Like the Prophet (SAW) I guess. To become someone that my lover could feel safe around. Somehow, getting a cat felt like it fit into that picture. I’d be a cat dad, you know, gentle. We’d raise her. I’d fast and become New Again. Maybe I’d wrap an inked tasbih around myself and show I’m a man of God.
I don’t know how a cat remembers fear any more than I know how a lover does.
I know her body stored it. My cat’s must have stored it too. That first night, I wish I could tell her that I was afraid too. It doesn’t make sense that I was afraid really — I’m bigger, more threatening. We don’t speak the same language anyway, so how could I ever tell her? She learned to trust me though, in her own way. Her small bean paws would press on my chest in the mornings. She’d meow to berate me for locking her out some nights, or when I was away from home too long.
She lives with my lover now. They share photos with me, they’re happy together.
I saw my lover once, it was on 55th and 7th, Broadway shined blue performance lights over us. She wore a red sacral dress. She said her mental health has never been better. I think she was trying to tell me that she’s doing well, because she knows I care for her. I don’t think she was trying to say she’s happier without me. We don’t speak the same language. I actually think they are happier with just each other. And I loved them both, so it hurts. Sometimes, not all the time. And it doesn’t always hurt that bad. Other times it does get pretty bad, though. I probably owe it to myself to say that.
I look back at the photos, the ones of our life together, and the ones of their new life.
Two green owl eyes, and two brown moonlit eyes. I look for myself in them.
