To belong Featuring Rastogi

She’s a sister. But she looks nothing like me. She’s a sister. From another family tree. We share a country. And we share some acquired history. But when we walk in the world. Nobody believes that we’re from the same family. She tells me stories. Of her community and customs. And being an alien. In a land that calls her a citizen. 4000 odd kilometres connects us. Two aliens of varying spectrums. In a place that speaks a native tongue unfamiliar to both of us. Ours is the story of disassociation and representation. The state and story of Indianness.

Small town girl leaves for the big city. That might as well be another country. With nothing to connect her to what she calls own. Spare some bottled and packeted flavours of home and some fabric, woven in the ethnic thread that binds. Keep her from floating away into a homogenised space. Nga atoiba thongba meets Kudampuli Fish Curry. In a massive stew bowl called Indian culture.