“That’s a bloody Keralite!”
The words, laden with hostility, echoed behind me as the bike whizzed past. I wasn’t in the wrong—I was merely trying to overtake a bike that was moving frustratingly slow, eager to reach my destination. The man, having seen the number plate of my car registered in Kerala, continued showering foul words. This wasn’t the first time. In fact, this was the sixth year in Mysore, where such incidents stirred within me a deep and persistent question: Who am I?
Born in Andhra Pradesh to a mother from North Kerala (once part of Karnataka) and a father from Udupi in southern Karnataka, my life has been a mosaic of cultural intersections. Years of living across India and abroad have only added more layers to my identity. Yet, incidents like this often force me to ponder the complexity of being an “Indian.” Who are we as a nation? What does it mean to belong to a country that exists, and yet, perhaps never truly existed?
A Fragmented Identity
One striking feature of Indians, particularly noticeable during my years abroad, is how we identify ourselves. Rarely do Indians introduce themselves as simply “Indian.” Instead, they say, “I’m from Kerala,” “from Tamil Nadu,” or “from Andhra Pradesh.” This is not a quirk but a reflection of a deeper truth: our allegiance to our states often supersedes our identity as a nation.
In India, the first great divide is between North and South Indians. In the North, the South is often pejoratively lumped together as “Madrasis”—a colonial-era term for all Dravidian states. Meanwhile, South Indians, in turn, harbor their own biases against Northerners. This regionalism is not limited to the broader North-South divide. Within states, there are further fissures: coastal versus inland, urban versus rural, North Kerala versus South Kerala, and so on. Every layer of identity adds another boundary, another perceived “other.”
Unity in Name Alone
India’s claim of “unity in diversity” often feels like a slogan that conceals the truth. Historically, the land that we now call India never was a unified nation, but a patchwork of kingdoms that frequently warred against one another. And from the Mauryas to the Mughals, from Vijayanagara to the Marathas, the history of this subcontinent is one of fragmentation. Even the name “India” is a colonial construct, and “Bharat” is no less contested, rooted in mythological claims rather than a cohesive national identity.
This reality is tactfully masked by statesmen and leaders. Yet, within this fractured history lies a paradoxical beauty: India is a land that embraces contradiction. Its culture absorbs and transforms, incorporating diverse beliefs and philosophies without erasing their uniqueness.
A Mosaic of Beliefs
Hinduism, so often miscast as a single religion, is in fact an aggregate of many beliefs. Shaivas worship Shiva, while Vaishnavas worship Vishnu. Charvakas, these ancient materialists who claimed God did not exist, formed part of the cultural mix. Atheism, animism, and ritualism all found places here. Even those rejecting Hinduism—such as Buddhists and Jains—prospered in its folds before eventually splitting off.
This ability to embrace differences has long been a defining feature of Indian society. It is this ethos that inspired sages to proclaim, Ekam Sat Vipra Bahudha Vadanti—“Truth is one; the wise call it by different names.” This inclusivity transcends religious dogma, hinting at a universal vision of humanity as one family: Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam.
The Dangers of Division
Despite this philosophical foundation, regional and communal divisions persist. Tamil Nadu’s fierce love for its language and culture often leads to isolationism. Karnataka, Kerala, and Andhra Pradesh have their own regionalisms, often fueled by language, politics, or cultural pride. Even within states, divisions abound. For example, people from coastal Karnataka are sometimes viewed with suspicion by those from Bangalore, as if they were outsiders within their own state.
Painful as it is, it doesn’t happen only in India. COVID-19 exposed the vulnerability of human solidarity everywhere. Village, city, and neighborhood gates were closed to outsiders. Fear and the instinct to survive overwrote our shared humanity. The lesson was stark: human construct it is that raises barriers; no sooner erected than they come tumbling down.
A Higher Vision
What then holds India together? Perhaps it is not the idea of a nation, but the collective journey toward a higher understanding of existence. The sages of ancient India envisioned a world without boundaries, a space where life is not fragmented by caste, creed, or nationality. This vision, though often overshadowed by politics and prejudice, remains India’s greatest gift to the world.
Beyond nations, beyond humanity, lies the essence of existence—a boundless unity that transcends the constructs we have created. The air moves freely, rivers carve their paths without borders, and the pulse of life resonates in every being, from the tiniest microbe to the mightiest tree. Existence does not divide; it simply is.
This vision is not confined to the human realm. It is the recognition of life in its totality, a web of interconnectedness that holds no allegiance to divisions. It is the soil nourishing roots, the ocean cradling its creatures, the cosmos witnessing it all in silent stillness. And within this expanse lies a truth: to exist is to belong, not to one identity, but to the vast, indivisible whole that is life itself.
…and in a world fragmented by borders, languages, and identities, the one who dares to believe in a single world united in love is often seen as an alien—or perhaps, as someone who has no identity. Here is a man who has no identity.
