I was born in Palaghat, Raised in Bangalore, Trichy and Chennai. Mom’s side - proper Kerala Dad’s side moved to Chennapatnam. Damn my parents spoke Malayalam, Kannada and Tamil. I could hardly pick up one. The more the people complained my tamil was different, I tried hard to fit in. Tam-Bram, neither was I Tam nor was I Bram, yet I was always thrown in a myriad of Tam-Brams. The schools I went to should have been called “Tam-Bram Vidyalaya”. My neighborhood had just Tam-Brams. I remember vividly when folks would affectionately touch my shoulder (to check my cross belt) and exclaim in shock “Ambi poonool podalaiyaa” ? My mom would make me secret chicken curries and fish fry, without alarming my neighbors.

I thought my problems were over when I came here to the States. I liked the Tam-Bram buddies of mine here. They were after-all boys. They ate all the cows and pigs one could imagine, diligently paid homage to the naked girls and boosted the economy. Come marriage time, my nightmares were to resurface. I was supposed to perform a Brahmin wedding, which meant I had to be naked ( I mean shirtless). I didn’t want to scare my friends and colleagues away in my not even remotely close to B. Pitt’s body. I raised all hell and said I will have to wear a shirt illainaa no wedding They all readily agreed, I am assuming for the same reason of not embarrassing their family members. Its been four years since. Not once I have been able to make idly and chicken curry or mom’s aapam and stew ( for some reason they pronounce it ishtuuuuu in my village). Since my wife grew up in Calcutta, Delhi and Mumbai it is very easy to get along without any cross cultural differences. Until recently when I had seen a post from DG and gone and asked my wife what a kunukku was ?

With our two year old, we try to keep it simple - we speak English. Wifey and I use Tamil as a secret language against him. Pongal, Idly or dosa are never to be seen until Paati or Naani makes any for him. For now - bread, egg, cheese and milk makes our life easy. The lazy parents that we are

KD: boy am I glad there are other folks that feel this way too. Like MM was telling me the other day, as the world shrinks, these confusions will def be on the rise.

DG: Apu, the more layers you add, the further you go away from your original core. You do build on something entirely new, yes, but unfortunately, you also end up moving away from where you started from. Is that a good thing? Where’s the happy medium? Enough for a PhD thesis, eh?
But… couple of my cousins who married guys from other communities - Maharashtrian in one specific instance - have still managed to raise children who are proficient in both the mummy and the daddy tongues. Wonder how I failed spectacularly in that regard!!!

DG: Lekhni - it is all in the way you say it? Like ‘karardhu’ sounds like ‘car - dhu’ - hence car and bus etc.

DG: Rohini - isn’t it the norm to blame everything on the parents? No?
Seriously, I don’t claim to have any rationalisation behind my feeling this way. It just the way it is. Maybe I never had the confidence to say, like you, “i’m just me - sod everything else”.

http://premalathakombai.blogspot.com/2006/02/identity.html

DG: Prema, thank you for understanding - and your email!