Me? Myself? I? Nabz?

Late night papers always lead to posts on Selfistan. Given my lack of blogs in the last little while, perhaps it's safe to say that I should write more papers; though that would completely devastate my already-destroyed sleeping habits and would render me unable to carry-out basic functions (i.e. speaking and writing - not the other ones). And this post already sounds like the paper I'm writing...sigh...albeit on a completely different topic.

The issue at hand today is something I've been pondering for quite some time now. Not sure when I started thinking about it, but it definitely became a major brain-stimulus around the time that I started my 50-page, and now sitting on the back-burner, paper on Pakistan. For anyone that knows something about Pakistani history, the question of Pakistani identity - what constitutes it, does it even exist, questions like these - has always been debated. Is Islam the thing that binds the country together? Jinnah tried to use Urdu - a language spoken by only 3% of the Pakistani population at Independence - before he died. What about territorialism (which, according to a professor from LUMS I met on Sunday, is now being used quite regularly)? As someone of South Asian descent, and one who's family is 'from all over the place' in every meaning of that phrase, it made me wonder about my own identity.

Ultimately, I came to a sort of an answer - one that fulfilled my requirements of taking into account everything. I decided that I had multiple identities. No - not in the sense of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but in the sense that only one who is of a minority group can understand. When I am with my "Canadian" friends (in quotation marks because the entire question of a Canadian identity can be questioned - but here I mean all those who were born in Canada) I have a certain identity; when I am with my Indian, Pakistani or African friends, I have other (varying) identities. This is not to say that I am not myself; rather, to me it means that I am able to fully relate to various cultures and types of people in a way that many people aren't. As Jawaharlal Nehru once said, "I am a queer mixture of the East and the West."

But my own identification with various groups isn't the end of the story. Having, to an extent, forgotten how others judge my identity as well, I was surprised when the question arose at a gathering this past weekend. Perhaps it was my own fault, as I had just asked this LUMS professor about identity-issues in Pakistan, and had had a conversation with him post-lecture on the issue of identities of South Asians in Canada vis-a-vis in South Asia itself. Also, having referred to both India and Pakistan as 'we' throughout the afternoon, and having a name too ambiguous to allow one to decide my background, I shouldn't have been surprised at the conversation that followed with another professor. It went something like this...

Prof: So Nabz - where are you from. (note - usually I hate this question when asked by 'Canadians' because it implies that I'm not from Canada - but given the circumstances, I wasn't too upset. Even then...)

Nabz: I was born here.

Prof: You know what I mean - are you Indian or Pakistani?

Nabz: Umm. Neither. (Note - if you know me, you will know why I said this).

Prof: Well, you have to be from one or the other.

Nabz: Well, I refuse to pay allegiance to either of them. And if I do, I say that I'm from both.

So - exasperated the prof walked away.
A little while later, another member of the organization that had hosted the talk asked me the same question, and the professor was still there.

Guy: So Nabz, where are you from?

Prof: I just asked her that question, but she refused to tell me.

Nabz: (sigh). Well, my family's from Gujarat, but moved away before Partition, and could've gone to Pakistan.

Guy: Oh - so they moved to ____________?

Nabz: Yes.

Guy: So you're _(religious group)_?

Nabz: Officially yes, but actually no. I don't believe in it, and don't follow its practices.

Prof: Well, we knew she was __(religious group)__ already - her last name gives it away.

And that's what struck me "her last name gives it away." It reminded me of a scene in a fantastic Indian movie called 'A Wednesday,' in which the cop refuses to tell the viewers the name of the 'terrorist' because names tell us too much of a person's life. More importantly, it made me realize how we immediately attempt to put people into boxes and try to understand them through things like names and hair colour and eye shapes - through things that are really inconsequential in the entire scheme of things. Of what importance is it to me what religion you are, or what religion your name tells me you are? Maybe that's the Canadian in me speaking, but in all honesty, isn't a person's nature more important? Or her likes and dislikes? Why this infatuation with the past? With this ethnic or national or religious identification of a person? This, in my view, is what leads to fragmentation, what leads to heinous acts of terrorism, what leads to this construction and the demonization of the other.

I know I've started rambling again (my excuse? Rfs), but it's all connected. I know I fall prey to making such judgements myself - I'm going to try and catch myself before I do though. That's one thing that's going to go into my New Year's Resolution list. That and writing more posts on Selfistan - without the aid of paper deadlines....

Long post - if you've stuck with me this far - thank-you...