Depending on which part of the world you live in; if you don’t look like you’re from there, people are always going to have preconceived notions about you [before they get to know you better]. For example, at work I somehow managed to give the impression that I’m “the girl who doesn’t want to be married off to some stranger”. Now, this is not completely irrelevant – but given that my mom deep down isn’t that much of a control freak and me being who I am – that is as much a probability as me fainting by the sight of Justin Bieber… unless he’s dressed like a ballerina… and being hunted down by a honey bear… in that case I probably fainted in an extreme case of hee-haw.
Anyway… the point is… I don’t want that tiny insignificant part of cultural misconception to create a backdrop for the canvas that is to portray me. Me, the individual. Me, the girl who dreams of building an igloo of books in the Arctic and being the only frozen writer in the world. But no… that comes later… much later… first, they will ask me where I from.
On this point I have to give kudos to my doctor who asked me where my origins are rather than “where are you from?”. I am not from anywhere! I’m from the same damn place as you are! We might even have been born in the same hospital! Yet where my parents are from automatically creates an identity for me. And it doesn’t make it any easier that people on this part of the world don’t know which religion the majority of Bangladeshi people belong to. No, I’m not a Hindu!
I am not going to rant on the trail of thought that Westerners have it easy because their canvases are as plain white as they are (warning warning!), because even brown people (nope, not a warning there… because you know, it’s even culturally encouraged to be racist among ourselves) judge brown people. A great example are brown (or maybe it just applies to Bangladeshi, I don’t know) guys. “Oh right, you’re a girl… that means you’re not allowed to do this or that. Ha ha ha!” (no, I am not exaggerating. They are that bad.
I know that there are probably many other people out there suffering from the same problem, but it has become so enjoined in their daily lives that sitting with their friends and discussing the various silly memes is sufficient outlet for them.
Me on the other hand… everybody knows how I love to take things to the next level. I spent the whole of 2012 doing that – convincing others, but mostly myself, that I am more than what I look like. From now on I’ll just vainly assume that I am perceived the way I want to be.
Chillin’. Signing out.