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