Just Like Me
Editor’s Note: For the month of January, I’m sharing weekly creative pieces rather than my usual EOM essay. ICYMI, you can find last week’s piece, ‘Chasing the Sun’, here.
Background
A few months ago, I bought a sketch book and paint markers. I’m always curious to see how varying forms of creativity can bring out varying parts of ourselves. I’ve found sketching (though I’m not the best at it) has helped me process the vast change in scenery I’ve experienced since moving to India from the States.
By living in a new country, my mind seems to constantly focus on the differences between home life and expat life. Everything new is contextualized against everything old. This car drives different. This food tastes different. This person sounds different. This family lives different.
In times like this, the value of finding similarities can’t be overstated. Inspired by the idea of cultivating a “love ethic” as described by bell hooks in All About Love, I sketched a recent loving kindness meditation. The sketch you see below features the riksha — a three-wheeled, open-air taxi equivalent that is a daily staple in Indian transit.
Just Like Me
In case the written version was tough to read, here’s a typed version:
This economy is driven by gig workers — literally. It is strange to see so many of them far older than me working for far less. A reminder of the privilege and fortune I’ve been lucky to have had my whole life. Living with that realization on a regular basis isn’t impossible in the US, but is surely more difficult to sustain than it is here. It’s in the simple exchanges with the vegetable vendors, the help, the rickshaw drivers that I’m quickly snapped back to reality. The reality of most. Most of the world lives like this in fact. They need no reminder of that. It can become all consuming, then. To bear the weight of knowing how lucky you are and how unlucky others. What to do with that knowledge? I don’t wish to discard something so real, however painful. So I think to myself, count your blessings, and count some for them too. In loving kindness, with a strong love ethic, wish these people well as if they were merely an extension of you.
He has black hair, just like me.
She’s wearing blue today, just like me.
They speak Gujarati, just like me.
She is a writer, just like me.
His parents want the best for him, just like mine.
They’ve been friends forever, just like us.
They want more, just like me.
They’re in a rush, just like me.
Just like me. Just like me. Just like me.
Look up. Look around. Is there anyone you notice who makes you think “just like me”? What is your love ethic?
Just Like You,
Shiv
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Beautiful dear. Loved this narrative ❤️.