Conflict of Interest


Defining the Cross-Cultural Paradigm


 

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All I recall is driving with him and listening to unknown tunes- foreign words, foreign instruments, that felt so close to my heart. They would play all day and have my parents questioning my behavior- “What is happening to her? What on Earth is she listening to in there?” Although they never stopped my tracks, I knew I was changing in an irreversible manner; unforgiving and sinful acts defined my new personality, according to my familia. Despite all my past mistakes, I still had the capacity to pierce their hearts. Despite all their efforts, I would remain as the complicated and disobedient girl; I would try to have the impossible and reach above the moon.

Partnership with Islamic beings was prohibited by the Indian culture due to violent and bruising history. I engraved this order on my skin and told myself- “I will never be part of this culture”. I did not realize when I made bonds with everything prohibited around me: cigarettes, spiders, and your world. I opened my vision to explore your town- how could one have such a collective personality? How could one be so hospitable to strangers? How could one so successfully convert their insecurities and fears to room-lighting laughter? I was trying to understand how you could be everywhere and how to run away from you, but remain sane.

Gradually, you became my peace of mind and foundation for growing personality. Despite being Islamic, you were holistically accepting of my Indian culture and never spoke without love seeping from your words. Regardless of varying backgrounds, everyone was respected and kindled- how could you let their life experiences become a part of you and remain so undamaged? Prior to blending with you, I was attempting to be individualistic and hence, isolated from friends and family. Your culture taught me to love everyone and be their tower; your traditions taught me the importance of Indian rituals, customs, and boundaries. 

I change as I learn of your practices, preferences, and perspectives. My mother said “Be very careful and never give yourself to an Islamic person”. Never did I sense racism so close to me; caution towards the Muslim, African, Chinese, and other communities was reinforced since she gave birth to me. “These people are not our own; you do not know how they can hurt you, use you, and throw you for personal benefit”. I always wondered as I sat through prayers, why my community thought this way when one of the major Sikhism principles is to consider all human races equal, regardless of caste, color, class, culture, gender, wealth, and religion.

Feeling as though I was one to introduce the cross-cultural concept in Sikhism (although I know, I am not alone), I became adamant to believe in my real feelings. Time and time again I asked myself: how do I feel doing something so unacceptable in my family? How much would I hurt from temporary or long term severance of bonds? Could I sacrifice myself for cultural satisfaction or would this be a sacrifice at all? If I were to let go of you, man of the other world, how much of my authentic self would I be cremating? After all, I was the daughter who always flew to foreign destinations; my mind was originally dipped in multicultural paint, regardless of familial constraints.

Bless me, Waheguru, for I will not disappoint you; I will preach your name and pray for him also. Hereon after, I will view your grace toward him as your holy touch bestowed upon my own head. I will honor his faith in the name of your teachings and walk as you direct, partially in my town and partially in his.