What it’s like being Jain in America
Entering my home, one is greeted by the smell of sandalwood and the portraits of the ornate temple and decorated deities. Among them are stacks of Times magazines peeping from the shadows of a large bay window decked with religious beads and tapestries. Playing in the background is the hard rap tunes of Drake and Eminem.
Growing up I have always struggled with keeping up two identities: a devoted Jain and a pop-culture American kid. While I lived as a Jain at home, my personality at school was completely different. I always compare myself to others. While I had dietary restrictions, I envied my friends who could freely eat cookies and cupcakes with no consideration of the ingredients.
Do I consider myself in compliance with Jain principles or American culture?
A few years ago, I would have most definitely responded with “neither.” The frustration with not being able to take part in American culture and the disbelief in Jain philosophies drove me insane.
I envied my non-Jain friends. My Sundays were never available for watching college football and rather than watching fireworks on July 4th, I would be confined to my bedroom praying for the microparticles that were hurt by the chemical interactions of fire. Ironically I would find myself praying for a day of freedom, freedom from the shackles that bind me…