I was born and raised in a suburban neighbourhood of Detroit, Michigan. My parents migrated there from India in 1973. I went to high school with people whose parents were from all over the world. Everyone dated everyone—race and ethnicity never mattered. Later, I moved to New York City to pursue film, and as I grew older, I found it challenging to meet a man with whom I could truly relate to.
I have come to realize that NYC is not a melting pot; it’s more like a bento box. People group into their separate sections—Italian, Chinese, Korean, Indian, White, Black, Latino, Jewish, Middle-Eastern. But if you look carefully, there is a small section of the bento box for salad, and the salad is a mixture. I would like to think of myself as belonging to that salad populated with people who are open, curious and willing to be part of a broader culture.
In India, questions and assumptions about one’s culture, race, and religion throw up huge obstacles, especially when faced with the prospect of choosing a life partner. In America, it wasn’t religion or race that I found problematic. It was culture. Finding someone I could relate to, who thrived on diversity the way I did, was difficult.
So wouldn’t I be all set if I found an Indian-American? According to the Pew Research Center a whopping 91% percent of Hindu-Americans marry only other Hindus, making them the largest population in America to marry within their own religion.
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