Santhosh's ramblings

Many of the everyday conversations in our hometown come back to identity . When people here talk about help at home, in the fields, or in the garden, the answer is often, “A Bengali helps us.” At first, I wondered why everyone seemed to be from Bengal. Then I realised that “Bengali” had become a convenient catch-all label. Over the past year or so, I’ve met people from Bihar, Assam, Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Nepal, and yes, sometimes Bengal too. The Indian in me finds it hard to place everyone under one name. Once I began asking where people were actually from, I discovered links to places where we had lived and worked, heard some encouraging stories, and saw their faces brighten when I tried my broken Bhojpuri or Nepali. They are here because of the TINA factor (There Is No Alternative).  Of course, this is not new. For years, we South Indians were casually called “Madrasis” — until Madras became Chennai and the label became a little less convenient. Perhaps that is why people a...