Because I didn’t know who I was, I didn’t know I had the right to claim all of myself.
It was a tradition for me to start the week with curry at my grandmother’s house, then go to synagogue for raucous music and charming.
In the evenings on Sundays, I spent time with my Indian side of the family. They raised me right with curry, saris, and Bollywood movies. A very basic understanding of Punjabi helped me have Englabi conversations with my grandmother, who told me stories about how she came to the U.S. and lived in India.
Source: https://www.heyalma.com/im-indian-and-jewish-and-i-dont-owe-anyone-an-explanation/