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In Kuwait: I am an Indian.

In India: I am from Kuwait.

In my hometown: I am a Mumbaite.

In Mumbai: My native place is Rajasthan.

I am not white. I am not black.

Apparently I am brown. Or Light Black. Maybe even Dark White!

In India: I have a Kuwaiti accent.

In Kuwait: The Lebanese/Venezuelan/Kuwaiti boy makes fun of my Indian Accent. (He thinks everyone in India talks the way Russell Peters does in his stand-up act).

My English may not be up to the mark because I am not a native speaker.

My Hindi is definitely not up to the mark, thanks to all those years spent speaking mainly in English.

My Urdu is borderline non-existent.

Being an Indian living amongst many other Indians in Kuwait, I never bothered to learn Arabic.

Being a Muslim and all the hours spent learning to read the Quran, I can read Arabic, I can take dictations albeit without understanding most of what I am reading or writing.

I am a daughter who fights with her father for equal rights.

I am a Muslim girl who does not cover her hair.

I am a prospective Indian bride who can’t make a chapatti to save her life.

I am a future mother who hates to stay indoors.

I am a woman who likes to wear her pants.

I am a lover scared of hurt.

I am a dreamer marred by reality.

I am writer with no regard for grammar, structure or format.

I am Bedouin with an Indian passport.

I am a Constant Contradiction.

 

Zahra Husain likes to live and think in ways she  is not supposed to and she blogs at http://www.zahrasays.com