I was paired with Charles for action one. After the class, we got together on the video call and started discussing everything from music, textile, food, traditions, politics and honestly everything. We concluded the discussion with big questions like who we are? who are our ancestors?
It was an exciting discussion it seemed like we were catching up on the lost information about our land and region, which is censored because of history and this imaginary line called a border. Separating India from Pakistan “Drawing a line doesn’t change the fact that we are brothers of the same motherland” Unknown.
The next morning began with my angry mother, shaking the life out of me and screaming. She thought I would help her around the house while mentally operating in the Pacific standard timezone. With a sleepy head and bad attitude, I started organizing my parent’s study. I began tugging the cupboard door, so I could stuff all the useless magazines and papers into it when suddenly everything from the cupboard came tumbling down on my head like a poorly constructed Jenga tower. For there among the heap, was an old family album. Rustic and torn but full of history.
I spent the next few days going through the family album and having deep conversations with my dad over a cup of tea; about our ancestral past and the journey of every individual. While on the other hand, Charles and I were constantly having a dialogue and sharing more information about our surroundings. By the time I started scanning all the pictures and putting all information (personal and ancestral) together in a presentation form. Every little detail seemed very personal, and I felt like I was oversharing, but I did it. I forced myself out of my comfort zone, and now I’ll have access to this no matter where I am in the world.
