It’s fascinating to watch the morphing of an entity that has been severed or disconnected from a larger part. Whether it is a country partitioned from its old composite avatar or a person who forsook their religion because of marriage, they seem to be propelled toward polarization, creating identities more extreme than otherwise necessary. This has happened, I chose this, now I must take a stand and be different, stand up for my act of separation, perhaps even justify it. Ignore the sameness. Ignore the city streets with approximately the same amounts of garbage, because there is a heightened sense of Another Religion in the air. Ignore how nothing has really changed about your food, your clothes, your very colloquial exclamations, because now you are Married Out.
While some are compelled to change, feel an obligation to become The Other, a few dig their heels in and stoutly choose to be driven by factors that prod us to take these steps. Still fewer others fling themselves between identities, but who likes the dissonance that produces? One over the other is easier, safer, infinitely more convenient than duality.
In the rarest of cases, it is a personal blessing for those who never really belonged to one space to begin with. A chance to seize the molding clay of circumstances and fashion from it at will. Those who say I will not be driven, pushed, compelled. Who acknowledge that many factors may change external situations, but we choose to renew our identities-or not. Even as I hear the constant drone of “change is ever-shifting” in the background, I am intrigued by the endless buffet of change, what whets its appetite, what platters we pick from, and the choices that fill our senses and identities, keeping us alive, moving us forward, nurturing stability, dulling our nerve endings into half-burying ourselves into the ground and sticking Velcro-like to the comfort of our original realities.
What do you fashion for yourself? Does your sky take on a different hue? What drives you to be still or shed layers? Do you see it as a necessity, inevitable, or a painful metamorphosis? When you throw off your tail, does your yoke get cast off with it? Or is it warmer to wrap a familiar milieu around your being and rock it close all the live long day?
I thrive between answers. So from the looks of it, I am in no tearing hurry to grab the nearest available one. Let me go arrange a bowl of flowers in the meantime. Nothing like petals and stems to dissipate a whorl of question marks. 🙂
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
“In the rarest of cases, it is a personal blessing for those who never really belonged to one space to begin with.” I feel that way to some extent having moved cities. At least I don’t have to always feel like an imposter for speaking English as a first language.
The morphing of an entity is fascinating to behold
From cringing caterpillar to butterfly bold
But essences of heart remain embed
E’en as travel and company change the head
However, it’s tragic when the person’s soul is singularly sold!
And keeping fingers crossed
For the new plant that you’ve boxed
We’ve done so too
Of half-a-dozen hue
Ours are Impacience, what’ve you tossed?
It’s so strange that you should post this now. Last week, I watched very dear friend convert to another faith to be with her loved one. She was never religious but I watched her cry as she recited prayers in a language she didn’t understand. Sometimes, I think we don’t understand what we are attached to, until we have to let go.
The Bride: I can relate to that. Ironically, I am viewed as more of an imposter here in the Bay Area for not having a typical “Indian” (read Hindu) upbringing than I am back in gloriously cosmopolitan Bombay! 😉
Aunty G: To which of your comments should I reply
Like choosing between lime and apple pie
Must be a good host
To you, who comment most
And leave us all feeling quite, quite high!
Revathi: Very true. I hope your friend finds strength. Personally, I find religious conversion for any reason other than independent personal belief revolting. To even ask it of someone reeks of a belief that one’s faith is superior than others.
I completely agree. Infact, the priest did the whole “my faith is better than yours” dance with me. He gave me a piece of paper with a list of reasons why.
Revathi: Reason #597 why I think organized religion in a bunch of crock. Should’ve shoved that paper where the sun don’t shine.
to you and to you!