Do We Owe Our Parents? – Chaithanya Bhimagunta

Towards the end of 2016 is when I began to fully delve into my identity; what I
identified as and with, and what I allowed to define me. In general, I branded myself a
British Asian Millennial, yet quickly I realised that term was much more complex
than it seemed and therefore I was much more complex than I seemed. My views
much like many other British South Asian women my age, were contradictory to that
of what a 20-something year old South Asian woman “should” have by our ancestors
standards (you know those pesky out-dated standards Asian aunties and uncles still
tend to live by). And this made me think about the contradictory life British Asian
women live. Our mind-set is an amalgamation of Western ideals, norms and values,
and Eastern traditions, heritage and culture. At what point and in which situation do
we prioritise one over the other? I believe the answer to this question is our parents
and the love we have for them.

I was raised in what I consider to be a very open South Asian household, while
religion was somewhat present – mostly in the background of our lives in the form of
a small shrine of a random selection of Hindu deities atop a dresser, and the
occasional family trip to the temple where none of us really knew (parents included)
what what we were doing meant. However, this much religion was enough for me to
know to tick the ‘Hindu’ box on every form. My mother was not the woman to dress
daily in a sari and feed us curry every night; she was quite the opposite. She was
career-oriented and liked to enjoy a glass of wine on occasion, but had a keen interest
in Bollywood. So, what kept me in touch with my heritage were our yearly trips to
India to visit my grandparents and extended family. And that was enough to make me
fall in love with being Indian.

While my parents had an arranged marriage, my own marriage had never been a topic
of discussion. All I knew is that I was not allowed to have a boyfriend, and although
at the time my parents probably never realised how illogical it was to tell your
daughter to stay single her whole life, and then either marry a man of their choosing
or miraculously bring to them a man who is perfect in their eyes despite not being
allowed to date, that is exactly what they and a lot of other South Asian parents
expect. All I can say to that is: make it make sense. That being said, just like every
other teenage girl being raised in the UK, I did have my fair share of crushes on boys
– the kind you have guided by raging teenage hormones and the tremendous will to
defy parents.

During my time at university, I was interested in a few boys here and there, never
caring for their race or background; I was more interested in how well we got along.
As time went on however, it dawned on me that an arranged marriage will most
probably be on the cards even though it was never spoken about. And it was at this
point that I thought if I found someone ‘good enough’ for my parents, then I could
start planning the event I’d spent my life dreaming of. And I can guarantee, this was
most definitely fueled by the Bollywood smitten little girl inside of me that was
picturing her wedding since she was four.
I shifted my focus from searching for a soul mate that I enjoy spending time with to
searching for a man my parents would approve of, and this is when I noticed race and
background did begin to matter to me. This did not happen in a way where my
preferences drastically changed or a switch labelled ‘discrimination’ in my brain
abruptly turned itself on once I’d reached ‘marriageable’ age (whatever that is), I
merely began to try to understand what really deemed a man ‘good enough’ according
to my parents, yet in doing so I consciously began to single out men that did not
necessarily fit that brief. As I swiped left over and over again, knowing very well at
the time that these ego-feeding apps were probably not the best place for a twenty
something Indian girl to go husband fishing, I found myself saying no to men I was
very much physically attracted to purely because I was envisioning my parents saying
no to each and every one. Once I realised what I had been doing, I felt so disappointed
in myself and had a heaviness in my heart thinking I am never going to be able to find
someone to spend the rest of my life with because no one I like will meet my parents’
standards. And it was this feeling that made me decide I’d rather stay single forever
than compromise on my preferences or defy my parents’ wishes.

My fellow millennial’s, and of course today’s vibrant Gen-Z, challenge the South
Asian proposition of seeing marriage as a business deal and matching a man and a
woman on the basis of things like ethnicity, class, religion, earning potential etc. We
attempt to fight against and shed the generational cloak of classism, casteism, racism
and of course sexism that our culture wears – especially when it comes to marriage.
However, with my personal experiences in mind, the point I am trying to make is,
does a line exist to where we keep resisting until we no longer can? Simply because
we harbour the instinctive desire to please our parents and make them happy, because
after all, they raised us, and gave us the education and freedom to develop and nurture
our brains in this way, all of which allowed us the chance to have opinions and
advanced understandings of the world, and therefore now we are able to work to
dismantle and challenge the much bigger systems of society that shackle us?
I am sure most of us have heard the line “I have sacrificed so much to bring you to
this country and give you such a good life” from our parents at some point, so now
the question is, do we owe our parents? Do we owe them for everything they have
given us? For leaving their beautiful lands and coming to a country where everything
is unknown to them only to provide us, and generations to come a better chance at
education, a better hand at opportunities and for our careers.

It is so ideal for prejudices concerning ethnicity, upbringing, religion, earning
potential etc. not to come in to play when finding a potential mate. But in a culture
where respecting, looking up to and obeying our elders is revered, they do matter, and
they do so because as human beings we have an intrinsic desire to please the people
who gave birth to us, and unfortunately those archaic notions are still important to
them. I hope the next generation of British South Asians and all South Asians alike
will be able to eradicate these discriminatory thought processes, and we can come to a
realisation that our children’s choice of partner is not a reflection on our love and
appreciation for our parents.

By Chaithanya Bhimagunta