‘A Cultural Battleground’: Balancing My British and South Indian Identities and Embracing Duality

By Ashika George

Being born in Kerala, India, and then living in Mumbai for a year as a baby with my parents are two years of my childhood that I cannot recall. But it inevitably cemented for my family the idea that I am a true Malayali. Even when we migrated to the United Kingdom in 2002, this belief was passed on to me as I grew up among a different population.

As a result of growing up in England, I quickly became fluent in English and even became the star speller in our year group. I picked up a British accent and recently realised that, after all these years, I'm finally speaking with a Somerset accent with some words. Various British slang expressions have entered my daily vocabulary. I had and still have friends who are of non-Indian backgrounds. I ate a lot of Western food and grew to love traditional British dishes like fish and chips and Sunday roast. England is where I call home. 

But because of this upbringing in England, I started forgetting how to speak Malayalam. I'm now only at a conversational level, which would suffice to speak to family in India. I was also worried at times that I came across as ‘foreign’ and thus strange and unlikeable; I was bullied and received insensitive comments about my culture and appearance. So, I always attempted to appear as British as possible: wearing ‘Western’ clothes, accentuating my English accent, discussing life in England as if I was born here, and other small things. Often, I ignored my Indian identity to fit in. One could argue, during those times, that I was more British than Indian.

My family ensured that despite residing in England, my brother and I did not become disconnected from our Malayali heritage. We are a very proud people and adore connecting with each other over our motherland. I have worn churidhars plenty of times during festivals and was happy to show it to non-Indian friends and teachers at school. I love eating various Indian dishes, at home or otherwise. Despite my Malayalam being at a conversational level, I’m glad that I’m still somewhat bilingual and can speak to relatives. In most culturally Indian settings, whether this was at church or our town’s association of Malayalis, there was a feeling of appreciation and a desire to share my culture with others. 

But another part of me struggled to fulfil these desires. I felt that I was not Indian enough to share my culture because other Malayalis my age were better at displaying it and spoke much better Malayalam. Sometimes I felt like I had no choice but to just be ‘fully Indian’, despite that I couldn’t fulfil this for my community, hearing comments that “we’re not like the people here.”

There were a few indicators that there was an ultimatum on my identity as I grew up. It was as if I had to wear two different facades depending on the environment. Sometimes I tried to be more British; other times I tried to be more Indian. It’s been a constant cycle of switching between them, and I desire for this cycle to end.

My university experience proved to be insightful. I had just finished my A-Levels and hadn't had the identity debate in a while when I met some fellow students from the same university who were British with Indian backgrounds. I felt that struggle resurface in my daily streams of thoughts about how I'm not British enough because I wasn't born in England, but my university friends were. But because we were in an institution that valued diversity and international connections, I felt compelled to assert my Indian heritage once more. 

This clash would have resulted in yet another spiral if my friends hadn't shown me that having a dual identity is possible. They demonstrated to me that we are British – we live in the United Kingdom, and we have for a long time. Our Indian backgrounds are a part of us that we can’t change – but why should we want to? It is amazing to be able to engage with and share our heritage. 

The changing attitudes to diversity have also been a great and necessary change in Western culture. I no longer felt obligated to clarify my heritage but rather shared it in conversations and online alike. I know that I’m not whitewashed and can enjoy being British too. The critical thoughts about my dual identity started lacking in power until they were completely powerless. 

This newfound happiness and content started with accepting myself (albeit with difficulty). The lines were more blurred than I had imagined they would be after all these years. This year, I had the long-overdue epiphany of having the ability to label my own identity. Going to university gave me independence, allowing me to think for myself without any outside influences acting as dictators in my life. The extent of this struggle isn’t as grand as it was in the past. It’s a process, and I’m grateful to be blooming at last.

My identity is straightforward: I’m a British woman who is ethnically Indian – I’m unashamed of both. It’s possible for me to embrace both sides without abandoning one or the other. In fact, this identity has shaped me in so many ways into the woman that I am today. I will continue to remain unapologetic about my identity, and anyone reading this who has been through the same struggle as me should do the same. Hold your head high and embrace duality.