I have often written about my struggles with wrapping myself around two cultures. Indian/Bengali vs. American. It almost felt like I could belong to one, but not both. I’m still learning how to be proud of my dual heritage but it’s not so difficult anymore.

I grew up in a world where the most important things were your SAT score, GPA, Ivy League colleges and whether your were going to be a doctor, lawyer or engineer. Needless to say, there was severe competition, often resulting in silly and immature behavior. There was a fervor to have your kid skip a grade, even if they weren’t particulary bright. Comparisons between kids happened on a daily basis. Who could read first? Who knew their multiplication tables at age five? It was a rat race. Even deciding to be a doctor was difficult because of caste issues.  I often had to hear that I was “shy”, “introverted” and “did whatever your parents told you to do”. What most of my parents’ friends often did not realize was that I had a strong personality and only did what I wanted to do.

Although I consider myself immensely lucky and privileged in certain ways, I felt that I wasn’t able to choose who I wanted to be friends with growing up. It was expected that I would befriend the kids of my parents’ friends, whether I liked it or not. Since my parents rarely socialized with anyone outside of the Hindu Bengali community, I was delegated to this group. And I HATED it.

Most teenagers go through a rebellious stage, but mine extended to adulthood. I’ve always felt it important to be able to choose your own friendships. For me, my special friends are ones who have provided me with the most joy, laughter, comfort, solace and understanding when the chips are down. Even beyond my family. I think they know me better than almost anyone else and realize the multiple layers of my persona. I’ve always felt limitless around my best friends. They often are shocked when I tell them of how I am perceived by the Bengali community. It’s so funny because they’ve only known a person who is rather outgoing, extroverted, and determined.

I distinctly remember the summer prior to starting medical school in 1993. I was at a picnic party being held by one of my parents’ friends. Someone asked me if felt intimidated to start med school. We were talking when suddenly our conversation was interrupted. A guy (who also went on to become a physician) looked at me and said, “You’re going to medical school?” He had a look of disbelief and shock on his face. I don’t remember what my reply was, but I remember thinking that even us “shy and introverted types who only listened to what their parents said” could gain admission to medical school. “Which school?”, he asked. I replied, “NYU”. “That’s a good school”, still with the look of disbelief on his face. Sarcasm welled up and I wanted to say, “Thanks, I didn’t realize NYU was a good school until you just told me.”

I admit that I was one stubborn child. To this day, I don’t know anyone more stubborn than myself.  Adolescence was a daily argument with my parents. Now that I’m able to form friendships with other Indians separate from my parents’ society, I can discover on my own what it means to be Indian, more importantly, Bengali. I embrace my Indian/Bengali heritage. The culture, dress, art, music and language are beautiful. I’m proud to be Indian and prouder to be Bengali.