A Carrot in a Jam Sandwich

A Carrot in a Jam Sandwich

“I am a part of all that I have met;”

A line from Ulysses, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

A simple sentence. One that tells us that we are all mosaics of our lives. We pick up bits and pieces from places, people and experiences, all of which eventually come together to form… us and who we are. Half this, quarter that, born here raised there, it’s a strange thing.

Growing up in two worlds was a big part of MY mosaic.

I spent most of my childhood in Singapore, a place that shaped how I saw the world. The buses arrived on time, streets were spotless, and everyone followed these unwritten social rules to the t.

As a kid, at 5 years old you have this idea that the world is perfect and harmless. So, essentially, I did live in a perfect world for a while, unburdened by the complexities of concepts such as “belonging” or “out of place” or “self identity”.

I would speak in English in school and with my friends, have noodle soup for lunch, learn Chinese and how to play instruments I can barely pronounce and then I would go home, switch to Marathi with my parents, eat rice with daal and that was my normal.

Then came the ‘big shift’. moving back to India. ‘Back,’ to my parents. ‘Alien’ to me.

We quite literally boxed up our lives and sent it across the ocean.

I remember not even saying goodbye to a few of my friends back then, because I hadn’t processed the fact that it would be the last time I was seeing them.

I had left my ‘normal’ in a distant, far off land.

Everything had changed for me. And so quickly! All the rules. The people, language and accent, the level of study, the food… 10 year old me had a MELTDOWN when she found out you couldn’t get Yan Yan sticks here in India.

Even at school, I knew I looked like everyone else (no racism intended) but there was still this stone wall between me and the rest of the kids in my head. I had labels attached to me before long, something that I was used to and in fact had grown tired of. In Singapore, I was the “Indian girl.” In India, I was the “NRI.” The new girl’. That was who I was… everywhere I went.

We all have these fascinations with the new students that join right? And yes, as someone who has been that person multiple times, I can, in fact, say that it is enjoyable for us too. (to a certain extent of course).

Its always more attention, less connection. I never really connected much with the kids there. I enjoyed retreating into books instead. The only things that had stayed constant in my life.

I remember multiple times where people used to talk about things like old snacks and cartoons like Pokemon, Shinchan and Chota Bheem, but I couldn’t relate because my memories had completely different names… (I didn't even know what Shinchan was until I was 14.)

I felt like a carrot in a jam sandwich in those moments.

It’s funny how identity sneaks up on you in small ways. For example when someone asks, “Where are you from?” and you have to pause for a second because no answer feels completely right?

After a point, I was no longer trying to choose between two worlds, I was learning to move between them.

I had learned to sort of ‘edit’ myself in moments, to fit into whichever box or version of myself that made other people comfortable. Like concocting a potion, with just the right amount of each ingredient.

You learn both but can’t relate to either as much. So you make a separate category for such people- ‘in-betweens’.

Despite that ability, It felt like wherever I was, a part of me was stifled. And in the process, I remember starting to think that I will probably never be understood as much as I would like by my friends. And that people won’t be able to relate to me much either.

But another side of all this would be that there are also certain advantages in not belonging to just one identity. You learn to observe, to listen, to adapt. You notice details, like differences in how people greet each other, what makes them laugh, what makes them pause.

Now, when I look back, I feel glad for being able to see the world through more than one lens. It allowed me to think differently about my own experiences, now that I had experienced a different way of living entirely, like how Singapore’s order felt comforting but also rigid at times, and how the chaos of India felt overwhelming sometimes but beautifully alive.

Sometimes, I still feel a flicker of not quite belonging. Like when I don’t know the meaning of a Hindi saying or word that everyone else seems to know. Like I have missed out on knowing and experiencing a lot of things. Luckily, I made a few friends along the way that I feel comfortable enough with not to hesitate to ask the meaning of such words to.

I’ve realized that it isn’t always about fitting in. Sometimes it’s about accepting and then feeling glad that you got to experience both. The feeling of being out of place doesn’t fade; it just changes shape. It teaches you how to make space for both. In your head and heart. I am still in the process of learning so many things even now.

Being a carrot in a jam sandwich is not something restricted to cultural experiences. It could be something woven into small moments in everyday life as well, where you feel out of place or ‘not like the others’...

So if you ask me now, I would say that belongingness is something that you never know is even a thing unless you have felt the lack of it., But what I have learnt to value is carrying the essence of everything in your life that has shaped you, with you.

And just as all of these things are a part of us, we become a small part of them as well.

Maybe you’ve felt like a carrot in a jam sandwich too. If so, just telling you, you’re not alone.