There are some of us who constantly seek to constantly define ourselves either as a function of our profession or a function of ethnic, national or religious identities. When we arrive at some definition, a quick diissatisfaction sets in and then spend our energies trying to change it. This is not true of everyone, but it is certainly true of me and a select few I've observed. This is also not always a positive thing - there are any number of people who decry a static existence. But humanity thrives as much on stability as it does on change. I've changed many identities and continue to do so continually. Personally I do not believe I will ever be a single atomic, definable entity and I reject the very idea of definition vehemently. I feel stifled, like my independence to act, to think, to dream and to speak will be taken away if this happens.

This is something I've only begun to realize - and accidentally. On my layover at Heathrow, I browsed the bookstores there. London's Heathrow is by far the most professionally organized. As my eyes roved through the rows and rows of shelves, a brightly-coloured book in the Travel section arrested my attention. A large picture of Lord Shiva, the Hindu God of destruction on the cover and a title announcing the author to be Sarah McDonald. The back cover talks of a fantastic concotion of myth, holy men, cows and curses. Incredulous, I think, but then again, travelogues are not supposed to be taking a a lot of creative license. And the realization sweeps over me that I want to hear about how a foreign eye perceived my country. Not that there are not enough accounts of fantastic skirmishes with mythical babas, snake charmers, elephants and technology folks. But India is not a monolith and being Indian does almost nothing in terms of understanding the country. So I *do* look for definition - indirectly, trying to define myself in its wake.

Currently Reading Candide (Penguin Classics) By Francois M. Voltaire see related