I am a born and raised Canadian.
But when people look at me, the last place they think of is Canada.
Whether I’m travelling across the country, shopping across the border, or even just going for a walk in my own neighbourhood, I’m inevitably asked the question.
“Where are you from?”
The same country as you if you really must know.
But I know what they mean.
I want to tell them that I’m just like you, only different.
My family might eat Indian food for dinner but there is conversation and laughter around our table just like yours.
My family might travel overseas to India for our vacation but there is excitement and joy on our journey just like yours.
My family might wear elaborate draped saris but there is charm and beauty in our clothes just like yours.
My family might dance to loud boisterous bhangra music but there is rhythm and rhyme in our music just like yours.
My family might hear our grandparents tell tales about water buffalos and sweltering heat but there is meaning and history in our stories just like yours.
My family might watch colourful Bollywood productions but there is romance and intrigue in our films just like yours.
My family might cheer for kabbadi players but there is competition and rivalry in our athletes just like yours.
My family might plan week long celebrations for our weddings but there is passion and intimacy in our marriages just like yours.
My family might bow our heads to pray in a Gurdwara but there is peace and strength in our prayers just like yours.
My family might speak in a foreign tongue but there is warmth and compassion in our language just like yours.
My family might look unlike yours in appearance but there is love for each other in our hearts just like yours.
I’m not so foreign, you see. I’m just like you, only different.
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