Don’t Stop Believing
“Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey is one of the most recognized songs in America that appeals to so many generations. I remember watching it on the MTV Friday Night Countdown, not realizing I would be singing the same song for years to come.
“Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.”
Growing up in a small town called Old Bridge, New Jersey, my world was a lonely one. As one of the few Indian families there, we didn’t have the same relationships with neighbors and friends that others did. There was the barrier created by foreignness – accents and cultural differences that seemed perhaps too uncomfortable for everyone cross.
I was highly sensitive to the differences between me and my classmates. I thought to myself, when I grow up, I am going to be like other mothers and wear jeans, not the saris and bindis my mother so boldly wore, often oblivious to the stares and the slurs which I wished had bother me a little less.
I was the youngest of 5 children. I have two older brothers and two older sisters – but I am younger by ten years from my next sibling in age.
I was a latchkey kid. I could not play sports because my parents both worked and could not take me. This made me sad, but I made up with it by compensating with vast amounts of MTV.
A stable home life was touch and go. I often sat alone in my room, pretending to read, trying to block out the sounds of the almost constant fighting between my father and mother. Loud laughter would scare me and I would find myself running down the stairs to see what else I could fix.
I was a small town girl, alright and boy was I lonely. But I believed in myself and that I would survive. And I did, though I am a little worse for the wear and tear.
I have learned that you have to believe in SOMETHING.
On every Journey.
I wrote this for a Write on Edge prompt asking us for 350 words in any genre, as inspired by a song of our choice.
I'm Kiran, I'm a dreamer. A writer. A singer. A mother. An ugly crier. An Indian-American. Who loves Gandhi. My stories are full of truth that is sometimes hard for me to say out loud. This blog is where I overcome my fears and live (and love) out loud.
Wow …. I don’t know why people are so afraid of things and people who are different. smh – I’d think everyone in your small town would be so curious about another culture and embrace and try to learn. smh #sad … I’m glad you came out in tact. All our experiences combine to make us stronger.
Tomekha,
Sometimes small towns are the best, and sometimes they can be the worst. At the time I was growing up in NJ there were no Indians there (not even imaginable anymore!) and we were certainly viewed as an oddity. Still, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I did have some wonderful friends whom I still love today so I wasn’t alone, but I was glad when it was time for me to leave.
Peace,
Kiran
And look at you now!
I know, right? I am soooo cool now.
Kiran
I had similar thoughts about my parents, who are devout Christians. Why did my dad have to play his Christian folk songs in the driveway while he was fixing the car? Why did I have to leave school during Hallowe’en? As an adult, I respect the courage they had in sticking by their convictions even when they were noticeably different. As a kid, all I wanted was to be “normal,” and for them to make more of an effort to fit in.
I can’t say I’d like to relive any of those times, but I do feel they forced me to develop a strength and comfort in myself that I might not otherwise have. I’m curious what you think of that. Do you think you would have as strong a sense of self if you hadn’t had those experiences?
” I do feel they forced me to develop a strength and comfort in myself that I might not otherwise have”
I think that’s great, Azara. In some ways I do, in some ways I don’t. In some ways, I am extremely proud of my heritage. In other ways, I wish my parents had thought a little more about the impact it would have on us to not assimilate at all. I still don’t think my mom has gotten how to eat with a knife and fork yet – because at home, we eat Indian food with our hands. In some ways I am better for it, in some areas, I think the experience weakened my confidence.
I wish I could say something like – yeah – it’s totally built me up! – but I think I would be lying….
Kiran
Wow! What a beautiful family. Loved your story. I think everyone sometimes has feelings of being alone, but in your case, it seems it went on for a long time.
I just read The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri. Now I understand more about Indian culture and how difficult it is for foreigners to fit in. Although this country is supposed to be a welcoming melting pot, we often aren’t very welcoming. But, I think almost every culture has a fear of “others.”
On the other hand, in Lahiri’s book, the parents stuck to the old ways and mingled only with other Indians, mostly by choice. It was up to their children to learn to fit in, making their own way by accepting or rejecting various parts of their parents’ Indian customs.
I lived in Brazil for a while, from age 22-24. Because I was a single woman alone and away from family, most Brazilians welcomed me warmly and treated me like a daughter. I didn’t always like or feel comfortable with local customs, but I never felt like I wasn’t accepted or didn’t fit in. And the one big lesson I learned was that different countries, peoples, and cultures are not better or worse than one’s own, they are simply different and need to be accepted for what they are.
I returned there last year for the first time since I left 43 years ago, with another American who worked there about the same time. Our friends and former students treated us like royalty. One day we went to a Brazilian restaurant. Because we spoke Portuguese and the owner liked us, he wouldn’t let us pay. I can’t imagine that happening here.
CJ,
In mentioning Jhumpa Lahiri’s books, you touched on something very real. Her representation of Indian families, especially those that came around the mid-sixties/early-seventies is pretty spot on. That was when the first generation immigrants from India started to come and their kids, born as American, but still heavily raised Indian. I love her books because I feel they speak so eloquently to my generation of Indian/Americans because of her common shared experience.
As for Brazilian culture – I love it. One of our au pairs was from Brazil – from the South – from the state of Brusque about an hour from Florionopolis. We loved everything about her and her family from their warmth to the Cachaca they sent
to the Portuguese we learned from her.
xo,
Kiran
You told your story so well, Masala. I could feel your sadness, your pain and fear. I loved your song choice, it’s one of my favourites. Your pictures are great and the use of black and white give it an artistic strength. I’m glad that MTV gave you an escape and it’s great that you have connected with this site where people will appreciate your skills and who you are. I hope you never feel alone again. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Dee – I’m going to try and participate every Friday now. Yeah – it’s a great song isn’t it? I was the lead singer of a cover band during most of my 20”s and early 30′s and I loved singing that song and seeing the range of people in the audience who always loved it and could sing along to ever world.
Do you remember when MTV actually played music? Gosh it feels so long ago…
Thanks for your kindness.
Kiran