In a multicultural, multilingual diaspora like India, the fetish for parochialism, though highly ironic at one level, is disturbingly relate-able at a deeper, more subconscious level. Much like the iconic iceberg from the movie Titanic, the parochial attitude shows but its tip on the surface of daily social interaction; covered under the veneer of cosmopolitan civility lies a strong, deep-rooted and almost insurmountable sense of regional identity in most Indians, that informs both the sense of belonging and of insecurity that characterize these people, and influence the way they attempt to position themselves with regard to their respective regional communities, while maneuvering life in the cosmopolitan, globalized world.
The question of defining one's personal identity along regional lines- by identifying certain key aspects of life as a member of a particular socioeconomic and geopolitical community, and trying to model one's behaviour and beliefs according to those perceived standards- in an attempt to 'belong' more completely to that group comes, most ironically, as a response to the Constitutional call to construct a 'national', secular identity for oneself in the public space. In a country like India, which boasts of innumerable ethnic groups, linguistic groups, tribes and religious minorities, not to mention the various caste-based classifications, all of which constitute the social fabric of the country- much like the patchwork quilt where some patterns overlap, yet remain stubbornly distinct from the other- the category of 'the Indian', and the 'Indianness' of the qualities that need necessarily characterize such a group of people remains forever elusive, and notorious for the exclusion of some group or the other by its mere definition. This confusion over a national identity gets further complicated for a person when confronted with the globalizing world and its attendant ethos, liberal in tone yet bringing home to us the fundamentalist undertones of discourses from various corners of the world, including the deceptively inclusive-sounding rhetoric of some 'liberal' countries. Confronted by a combination of such distorted, fragmented worlds competing to find precedence in one's life and consciousness, one set of beliefs seemingly threatening the validity of another, one tends to seek ideological refuge in that which has remained, for that individual, static, stable, immutable and unchallengeable since their childhood. What is subjective and open to doubt, discussion and a possible change in one's opinion or mindset (while intellectually and spiritually desirable), is often then overridden for the reassurance of solid and unchangeable facts, the learnt rejected for the imbibed, and acquired cosmopolitan tastes gently nudged out, in the subconscious, by the inherent affinity towards the local, the homely, the parochial. This in turn results in the 'othering' of any socio-cultural group that differs even slightly from one's own, alienating and demonising these 'others' to the advantage of one's own customs and beliefs, so as to validate the superiority of one's community in one's own as well as collective psyche, thus reinforcing the sense of security and belonging that emotionally binds one to their region/community of birth, leaving no room for confusion or conflict in this one, basic identity that they create for themselves.
It is this sense of allegiance to the regional in Indians that, at times, shows itself subconsciously in daily parlance, reflecting the irrationality of herd mentality (voting in reality shows, for instance), and at others, appears in the most deplorably obvious political propagandas (the demand for statehood for Telangana and Gorkhaland, for instance). In either form, it always remains successful in undermining the narrative of the nation as a unity, and brings forth questions not just about whether every aspect in India is to be legitimately judged through the lens of parochialism at all times, irrespective of its relevance, but also about whether regional biases, achievements and grievances have not in fact become an acceptable line of argument in India, legitimizing and, in fact, even creating grounds for otherwise unfounded causes of disagreement.
While the complexity of the parochial question in India has barely been touched upon in this piece, I have attempted to understand the politics of locating one's identity along regional lines in this nation, and through this, to ask one question to my readers: In the absence of a unified national identity and presence of increasing political manipulation of public sentiments for the cause of the vernacular/region, will the nation of India lose its political identity itself?
