Tarka and masala. The essential base to every desi household.
Miles away on starving island and you'd know if there was a desi household nearby. I mean we weren't only known for our spicy food and loudly extravagant behaviour; we're also known for our legacy of parents who wouldn't think twice when beating their kids with their shoes and rolling pins if they were to get B's on their report cards and then disowning them if they were to fail in becoming a doctor or lawyer, remaining to be a disgrace to the family name.
We also have two-faced teenagers or young adults who'd be partying one night and then show up at the temple dressed respectably, praying like they hadn't spent the morning with a head in the toilet seat or grinding on their cousin's best friends the night before. These are only a few to name.
Intervening family and unrelated relatives are also commonly associated among many of those with Asian descendants. I ain't saying other ethnic group don't have their fair share of drama, I'm just sharing mine. Like come on, who in their right mind would like it when their mom's second cousin's daughter's older son's friend comments on your personal love life?
I should really clarify.
Desi is a very funny word to me. It's true meaning is something that's homemade or made simply with whole pure ingredients like milk or clarified butter. Many also refer to it as a style of living when they say stuff like "that's so desi," or "cmon, be desi man." For example, when you can't wash your hands cause there's no sink, unscrew the lid to the water bottle and you're good to go.
Lately desi and brown are terms we've used a lot more over the years, especially as I grew up. In the end, it all means people who have originated from India, or have a cultural background of Sikhism, Hinduism, Bengali etc. Like how Christianity can have a Catholic or Christian branch; Sikhism can be divided further into those types of branches.
I am a leaf to that tree, although many would like to contradict. Life isn't pleasant and nor have I grown accustomed to it in my immigrant life here. It's like an unsettling rollercoaster, with turns of drama and dips of emotions. Some day were better than the most but this city, I'll tell you; I'd do anything to trade lives with the person living in Antartica, surviving with a huddle of huskies to keep themselves warm with and eating fifty styles of cod for three square meals.
Being desi has its side effects. We are forbidden from a lot. Forbidden from having illegitimate relationships not solidified with the ring, banned from conversing in conversation with the opposite sex even in school sometimes, no going out or to friends' house, feeling under house arrest on any given every day, and then stripped of the right to pave our own paths.
Most families as soon as the child is born, their whole life is foretold and reminded constantly again and again so they know the expectations like the rhythm of their heart. If they fail in succeeding, then dying ain't even an option because that's just as frowned upon. It becomes an act of weakness and people soon begin to point fingers adorned with heavy golden rings to the character of an individual.
Cruel, yes.
Passive, definitely.
Inhumane, maybe?
...
Gown + Cap + Formal black dress=
Grad picture day!
Another update coming next week sometimes. So far I'm simply trying to mark every grad event with a chapter of this beautiful creation I've been working on since chapter 30-40 of Pleasing the Heartless Alpha.
(Yes it's waited that long to be published)
Please, pretty please comment how you like it!
xm_vermanx15
YOU ARE READING
You Are Most Welcome Alpha
Werewolf"Mine!" "Okay. Yeah, that's great and all, but you see things are more complicated than you just growling 'mine' and with me becoming yours." "My Mate," He growled again, making me face palm myself from his failure to understand how bad the situatio...
