An Essay on

Telugu Culture and its

Effects on our Lives in North America

.....Won first prize in a TANA contest

V. Vemuri, Pleasanton

 

What kind of impact "Telugu culture," if such a thing truly exists, can possibly have on our lives here in America? Very little, constructive impact; a great deal of potentially destructive impact. Before examining Telugu culture as an entity and its impact on our lives, let us start with Indian culture, the parent culture of the Telugu speaking people.

In spite of successive waves of alien invasions, some aspects of India's evolving culture remained, by and large, unchanged. That germ, that essence, that soul of Indian culture manifests itself as different incarnations in different parts of the country. The gist of this is reflected in many illustrious works left to us by many towering personalities. Who else can boast the antiquity of the Vedas, the beauty of the Upanishads, the ecumenical message of the Gita, the moral message of the Raamaayana, and the worldly wisdom of the Mahaabhaarata? Lest we forget to put them in daily practice, the values expounded in these works were told and retold innumerable times through dance, drama, poetry, music, paintings, sculpture, and any other artistic media our ancestors could think about. This artistic, spiritual, philosophical and intellectual wealth is our heritage, our culture.

Is it possible to extract something out of this heritage that can be called Telugu culture? What we think of as Telugu culture is an incarnation of Indian cultural values and traditions that are idiosyncratic to the region where Telugu is spoken. Gongoora chutney, Pesarattu and Avakaaya among foods; Kuchipudi among dance forms; Harikatha and Burrakatha among bardic form of story telling; Andhra-style dhoti and uttariyam as men's attire are few examples that may be considered characteristic of Telugus. The first generation immigrants may enjoy these for nostalgic reasons, but it is wishful thinking to pretend that these items will have any influence or impact on our lives here for any significant length of time.

Thus, if one wishes to treat Telugu culture as one that is distinct from Indian culture, there seems to be no other choice than to focus on issues related primarily to the Telugu language itself. To have an impact, the language must be preserved, patronized and passed on to the next generation. The argument that Telugu children should learn to speak Telugu just as Jews are learning Hebrew and Tamilians are learning Tamil has indeed caused many a strain among friendships and relationships. Future generations will find little practical value in speaking Telugu in the United States, particularly as the ties to the mother land grow weaker with time.

Let us examine the effect of Telugu literary culture on our lives in North America. Although Telugu writers produced great literature, their impact outside the borders of Andhra Pradesh is insignificant. If we wish to leave an imprint of our literary culture here in the United States, then we - the first generation Telugus - should consider bringing to this country, in translation, the beauty of Yogi Vemana's earthy wisdom, the pastoral romance of Yenki songs, the revolutionary roar of Sri Sri, and the lilting lyrics of Pushpa Vilaapamu, to mention a few. Perhaps the talented individuals among us can try to translate our folk tales ( a la Pedaraasi Peddamma) and songs (a la Bhuja Bhuja Rekula Pillundaa?) for the benefit of the children in this country. We may not succeed in erasing the imprint left by Kipling, but we can certainly try to provide a more authoritative source of Indian, and Telugu, folk wisdom to the western world. Or, how about telling to our brothers and sisters back home, in simple Telugu, the technological revolution taking place here? These kinds of activities help keep the language alive here a little longer.

Many of us lend lip service to the task of preserving Telugu culture; hardly any of us do anything about it. Instead, what did we try to do so far? Let us examine our inter-personal behavior. In a place and time where it is completely irrelevant and immaterial, we continue to harbor mutual hatred and suspicion by constantly invoking the caste system. Both the national association that purports to represent the Telugus and many of the local associations are rife with caste politics. True, caste is as much an integral part of Indian culture as are karma, dharma, atma and yoga. However, Telugu immigrants have honed and tuned the caste-based politics into a fine art and left the lofty ideals of our forbearers to fend for themselves. Now caste has become the predominant, perhaps the only, factor in our highly politicized and emotionally charged "cultural" activities. Caste has become the basis, the sole factor, in making decisions in community gatherings.

This caste is costing me wherever I go. I cannot run for an office because I belong to the wrong caste. I cannot schedule a cultural event unless I balance the cast along caste lines. To the best of my memory, it was not this bad back in India. Perhaps it was bad, but I justified the tribal mentality because the opportunities and resources there are limited. But, here? In the United States! In this land of opportunity? It may still matter if one is of Asian or of European descent; it certainly does not matter whether one is an Andhra or a Tamilian, or whether one is a Kamma, a Kaapu or a Reddi.

What else did we choose to inherit from our vaulted culture? Look at the place of women vis a vis the institution of marriage and family life? Having been brought up in a male-dominated society, we certainly imported our chauvinistic attitudes. A by-product of this is the growing trend among Indian boys to shun Indian girls born and raised in the United States. The reason given is that girls raised in the U. S. would not listen to their husbands. Girls born and raised in India will not only "listen," they perhaps bring some dowry too. These archaic attitudes are forcing American-born Indian girls to shy away from Indian boys altogether.

This trend, which is only in its nascent stage now, will have a far reaching impact on the "preservation" of our culture in this country. The tireless talk about the exalted position of women in our society is a far cry from the facts.

It is one thing to claim great moral and cultural heritage and quite another thing to live up to it with pride and dignity. The reason why the U. S. Bill of Rights occupies such an exalted position in the annals of history is not just because it extolls the individual but also because the nation comprised of those individuals constantly fights, with itself, to uphold the sanctity of those rights. True, occasionally these inalienable rights are flouted; but the nation experiences a catharsis until they are restored to their right place. We see this in action, here in this country, every day; yet we do not pause and think for one moment when we flout the rules of conduct laid out by our own culture. I am not talking about wearing a sari or a "dot on the forehead," talking Telugu, and going to a temple. I am talking about the deeper issues of decency and unity.

We Indians - not just Telugus - adapted remarkably well to the professional environment of this country. Many among us occupy exalted and enviable leadership positions in this country. In an alien environment the Telugus learned to flourish and excel. But we never learned to grow up. We are living in a time-warped world; we never came out of the comfort and security of our shells of tribal ancestry.


rvemuri@ucdavis.edu
Thursday the 8th, May 1997