Independence- What does it really mean?

I am a firm believer of the notion that all of humanity is one. At least that is what my conscious mind believes.

But then this morning, on my way to celebrate Independence Day and choosing what to wear, I felt uncomfortable wearing a white suit with green dupatta, because it felt symbolic of Pakistan more than India. Now I am absolutely NOT anti-Pakistan at all. I frequently get into very heated arguments with family and friends over the simple concept that Pakistani (or any other) government, and Pakistani (or any other) people are separate. That humans aren’t inherently hateful of other humans; that our differences only exist in our stories and not in our reality. My own uneasiness with a simple outfit this morning was not a conscious one, and it was very confusing to go through that emotion.

Since a kid I have been someone who would never look down upon a person simply because they’re poor. I am never rude to help, always politely thank anyone for the littlest of things.  Those who know me would know it’s ingrained in my being. Yet, whenever a maid didi enters my room, I try hiding my wallet or any fancy stuff I might have lying around, because I’ve heard enough stories about thefts in others’ households. I’d lock my car doors on every traffic light. The thinking part of me feels like I am disrespecting another human, stereotyping them (something that I absolutely detest when someone does to me), but the animal instinct simply tries to protect.

It is ironical because all my life I have found it easier to make friends with boys, and yet there’s a certain subset of them that, by their sheer appearance, scare me. Moreover, my default brain settings say that boys are potentially dangerous, and to be kept at a safe distance, unless proven otherwise.

I was once travelling with my mother in an auto-rickshaw, must have been around 5 years old, when a van hit our auto, and both mumma and I fell out of the vehicle onto the road. We were lucky to have gotten away with only some bruises, but the mental scar of the incident did not allow me travel in autos until very recently. I still am on the edge, panicking at every turn.

I was always told that ‘I am mature for my age’, I am a very ‘obedient child who never caused her parents trouble’. And in an attempt to live up to that identity of mine, I have suppressed parts of me for years. I have now realised how much I have lost myself in an attempt to please others.

India gained its ‘independence’ from the British 75 years ago, but if whenever you look at a fair-skinned person, your immediate thought is ‘angrez _____________  he hote hein’, or something to that effect, wherein you still see them as your oppressors of the past, are you really independent?

Are you really free, if the past, a lot of which does not even belong to you, defines how you treat someone you meet today? Are you really free if you make others’ stories your own, and let them drive your perspective throughout your life? I would argue not.

Each day we wake up, and put on a myriad of identities- a medical student, a baniya, a girl, a Delhiite, an Indian, the list goes on. Each of those come with their own sets of rules and societal expectations that we then strive to live up to, even if we do not really relate to them.

We shun our true selves in an attempt to live up to our past, our beliefs, our conditioning, our identities. So then are we really independent?

The more we try to define ourselves with identities and belief systems, the more we create a prison around our own selves.

The more hatred, judgements, unforgiveness, anger, fear we carry within us, the farther we take ourselves from novel, enriching life experiences.

So once again, are we all really independent?

For me, realising how solid a jail I have created around myself, consciously and subconsciously/unconsciously, was an absolute eye-opener. I am, more than ever, determined to break out my own jail, one bar at a time.

If reading this article made anything inside you turn, you might want to spend time thinking about one such place in your life where some belief or story is holding you back, and taking one small step in overcoming it- apologise to someone you have been knowingly or unknowingly hurting/holding grudges against, spending time with a person from a community you have held prejudice against, doing something you love but are afraid of showing to other- whatever comes to your mind.

True independence, for me, is being able to live every day with a fresh perspective on life. And while we cannot press reset on our entire life every day, we can choose to allow the world to amaze us with its infinite wonders. If only we create space, we’ll truly be free.