Identity Matters

It was almost a month ago. I had to write an essay on identity as my school assignment, but it was difficult to begin with. I was also thinking about the best way to begin with. Amidst that inner meddling, I got a call from my employer, whom I had never seen by then, and he said, "Are you the four- to- six boy?"

"Oh, yes," I said, "Is something wrong?"

I was working for him from four to six in the evening, so he had named me like that. Our conversation continued and he didn't bother to ask my name. For him, I remained 'the four-to-six boy' for several months. However, later on the situations brought us near and we became good acquaintance .

But in my entire life, the four- to- six-boy identity has been the most amusing one. I miss that. Sometimes.

Yes, I'm writing this assignment about identity and ,on one hand I found that my identity has changed a lot during the course of time, and on the other hand, there is a huge possibility that my identity abruptly changes from something mundane to something nice if I decide to change my current place of residence and, with that, my present occupation as well.

In fact, that’s not very boring if I mention those mysterious labels of mine now. More than a year ago I entered Finland- a middle class Nepalese boy in early twenties, loyal vegetarian, a fair observer of Hindu-Buddhist religious tradition, and a staunch follower of Asian way of doing things: like eating at least a bowl of rice everyday with hands. After this period of time there have been some changes in my identity traits, and such changes, in fact, are the product of my own views and others’ point of view also. Nevertheless, there are some identity traits that are not easy to change or will remain with me forever. For instance, I will always be a brown-black man of Nepalese origin with Nepali mother tongue. And I will have to label myself as an Asian in those internet dating sites or wherever.

One thing strikes me a lot. I don’t have any religion at the moment. Within this period of time I turned out to be an agnostic. I saw the differences, I studied quite many doctrines of different religions, I reasoned (though some people said it is not reason but faith is what I need) and found my peace of mind in agnosticism. I don’t know it is healthy or not, however, I am sure that my second identity that I recently developed is bit unhealthy: I am no longer a vegetarian. I used to be a tough vegetarian guy with memberships of different vegetarian societies from around the world, but I have lost that sort of pride and I think if I see my those old vegetarian friends again they will offer me one unhealthy thing- pity.

Why did I do so? Because I felt that vegetarian food was no longer providing me enough energy to cope up with my changed daily routine and non-veg. foodstuff were suitable for my tight student budget as well. This gradual shift made me realise that one is obliged to reshape his or her identity on the basis of need and circumstances. That is exactly what I did.

Where is my real identity here and now? Sometimes I feel the real identity is not so apparent like my second type of identity which is in numbers and statistics. There are some institutions where my identity has been codified into numbers, letters, symbols and so on. My bank recognises me only with the customer number that they gave to me. I have got another very important code which is called Personal Identity Number. If I don’t have that thing, I suspect, I can live here for more than a week. I have a passport and a number without which I cannot get even a ticket issued to visit my family back home. I wonder whether it is rational to conclude that I have been summed up in numbers, whereas, my real identity is shadowed, smashed.

I am just back from visiting my family living in Nepal. Of course, I had quite important meetings and interactions, but it was a nice opportunity for me to observe the fact that how my identity was changing in my own country. And especially girls made that part easier. In the west, whenever some girls are trying to kick off some romantic affair with me, I notice that they retreat pretty soon because I’m not a white western man, don’t follow the Christian tradition or their brand of faith, don’t speak their native language and all these things make me less suitable and desirable, and girls do not see any future with me.

In contrast, in the eyes of Nepalese girls, I am very different and perhaps more desirable due to the fact that I have been educated in the west, have fairly good social capital and I come from a nice family. Because of all these I get more plus points in their romantic affair equation and, of course, the first thing the girls find in me will be the guarantee of a secure future. You see, I’m the same individual, but one party does not see any future with me and another bloc will be more than happy to be with me because I’m bound to have a stable future. It is amazing.

During these fateful years another important change occurred in my political identity as well, and the worst factor is that I even did not notice it on time. When Nepal became a republic, in the wake, a movement erupted throughout the nation where people started demanding rights on regional basis. Those living in the fertile Terai region started saying that they want a separate autonomous province. This movement virtually divided the indivisible Nepalese into different regional factions and I as well as my family with other millions of people were labelled as pahadiyas, those who come from the hills. With this division came another identity of being Pahadiya, and sometimes it was difficult to differentiate which identity was of solid value- being a Nepali or Pahadiya or both.

Multiple identities and roles really create conflict within you. It happened and is still happening with me as well. I start my day as a shop cleaner and end as a blogger. And in the middle of these points there are several other identities through which I swing throughout the day and quite many times I realise ‘oh, that’s me’. Thus my identity is fragmented and fluid as well.

I think it is not worthless if I talk little bit about what sort of identity I want to develop or what I want other people to see in me. I want to be something that I am not at the moment. My internal identity is that actually I am already that person, but no one knows it yet. If I tell them that I am that person, they don’t believe it because I don’t have notable work to show them. So does it mean that an identity needs something to show in order to prove it, attest it? My answer is a big YES.

There is a small story connected with my motivation of being that person and my identity’s crush on it. Actually, I wanted to or still want to be that person, but something came from inside me and said, ‘you have least possibilities of being that.' I thought the reason being a valid one, and dumped the idea of being that man at least from that way. What was the option left? Of course, I can do that differently, but I fear that my choice of alternatives take me somewhere else instead of giving me that identity which I passionately desire to acquire .

Unfortunately, I'm writing this identity thing not in my own language. I'm sure that I can write anything better in Nepali than in other languages. Because that is the language that has been spoken and mastered by my forefathers for hundreds of years. I can depict tears, rage, love, hate everything eloquently and I can fully express myself in it. This is the language that I probably would be using on my death-bed because this language is a part of me, it is what makes me, supplements me. It is an inherent part of my real, solid and imperishable identity.

(An edited version of assignment submitted to my school for academic purposes, January 2009)