The quest to belong

We had once gone on a school excursion to Sikkim. It was my first visit to this enchanting land. It was a truly magical and surreal experience to travel in the dense fog along the river through lush green mountains. It was the first time I was among the clouds. We had stayed in a cottage located high in the mountains, which could only be reached after a long trek. It was a beautiful cottage surrounded by lovely rhododendrons forest blooming with spectacular flowers. The cottage had a lush lawn where we would play in the afternoons. One day, we were playing on the lawn when some local students passed by. One of them asked if they could join us and I turned to check with my friends. Seeing this, the girl who had asked the question started imitating me and repeating everything I was saying, giggling with her friends. In retrospect, I wonder if the fact that we looked similar made her comfortable enough to tease me.

Another time when I was in college, I visited a café in Delhi with my school friends. It was a popular café whose staff members were primarily from the North East and Nepal. None of my friends noticed it but I realised that the staff members kept looking at our table curiously. My friends were mostly south Indians with a few from north India and other parts of the country. We were a very diverse group. The staff members were probably wondering how a person with my features was mixing so easily with the rest of the crowd. Here I was feasting on roti with tandoori chicken along with idli-sambar, dosa and my favourite mutton momos.

I have noticed this trend among students from Ladakh—as well as the North East—who study in places such as Delhi and other cities. They mostly keep to themselves and don’t mix easily with others. There are many who eventually assimilate well but it takes them time to open up. In my case, I have lived in Delhi from a very young age with a few years at a school in south India and later worked in Delhi. Thus, it is very easy for me to blend in with the crowd in these cities. During my early schooling years, there were no Ladakhis studying in my school. Since then, I have often been the only Ladakhi in an educational institution and workplace. The only exception was the time I studied at a south Indian boarding school, where I had a couple of fellow Ladakhi students. Otherwise, I had minimal social interactions with my fellow Ladakhis through school, college and professional life.

This resulted in a sense of alienation that has grown since my return to Ladakh. Despite my best efforts to dive back into Ladakhi society, bridging the gap that developed during my time away has been a big challenge. The natural and unspoken bonds that once seemed like second-nature now seem rather elusive. Navigating the shared experiences and cultural nuances that I assumed were intuitive now feels like an uphill task that leaves me feeling like an outsider in my homeland.

While I was away, I imagined Ladakh to be a homogeneous place. Now I have discovered that it is a cultural mosaic with people from different regions speaking their own distinct dialect of Ladakhi along with their unique styles, and cultural flavours. Even dances and songs vary widely from region to region. This rich diversity, while fascinating, has made reintegration feel like I was trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces! Adding to the challenge is my fluency in English, which is the result of years living outside. This is sometimes interpreted as me showing off or worse, of me neglecting my mother tongue. Ironically, my attempts to speak Ladakhi often elicit giggles due to my limited vocabulary and occasional mispronunciation. I have tried to cover up my linguistic blunders with honorific salutations such as Kasa-ley, Ona-ley, Man-ley, Yin-ley, and Hala-ley. Despite my best efforts to sound respectful, I often feel like I am doing a comedic routine and bending over backwards to fit in. After spending years away, returning feels like a quirky adventure of rediscovery, where I am slowly learning to reconnect with the vibrant tapestry of my home.

By Stanzin Kunkhen

Stanzin Kunkhen is an entrepreneur and proprietor of Migsal Enterprises.