God show me the way coz the devil trying to break me down...

Consuming a Zinger Burger and sipping on my tea, I hear faint sounds of a congregation led by a charismatic voice in the distance. It was the clinical looking building next door. A loud, masculine shout followed by cheers and chants. I sat, cold and weary looking out at the young lads standing outside KFC with nothing else to do. Their sports branded clothing, expensive trainers, baseball caps with the tags hanging off intimidating passers by and looking for something to do. Looking for something -something fulfilling to fill the void.

As I have grown up I have realised that my relationship with God has been turbulent. As a Sikh, it can be extremely tough to follow the ideals our parents expect us to abide by. In the constant conflict to do what my religion dictates and eating the last of my zinger burger I commit a sin. I look ahead thinking what life would be like if I followed the path many young people my age do. They take the Sikh baptism and follow a life more in tune with Sikh tradition – doing the prayers, following the code of conduct which involves never cutting or shaving hair, not eating meat or smoking and attending the Sikh temple to assist the congregational activities. I am guilty of not abiding – I like the odd drink on a jaunt or a tipple with friends. I am partial to a bit of barbeque on a weekend that Uncle Malkit serves up in the local desi pub.

Like the lads with no purpose who day in day out ‘hang around’, I realise that I too am missing something – Peace of Mind. An empty feeling often consumes me in times of contemplation knowing that religion can help to fill it. Language barriers enhance the confusion – How can I understand prayers and the significance of Holy Scriptures when the language is foreign to me? This is difficult. What will my children be like, when the possibility of marrying another British Asian who shares my view doesn’t pass down any religious teachings? I see a dilution of religion as time passes by. In the UK, there will be less of a ‘difference’ between white and Asian people. With the increase in mixed marriages and the new British Asian population becoming increasingly ‘western’ I see a secular society with religious groups very much a minority – no more busy Gurdwaras on a Sunday. Not like they used to be.

As I left my car, I strolled towards the building entrance with the chants louder and clearer – ‘Jesus is our Saviour’. I am intrigued and I walk in. Greeted by a friendly African lady, dressed in traditional attire she invites me in. I stand like a condemned man, confused and alone sipping on my KFC tea and scanning the crowd. Scores of black devotees sing and dance. ‘Hallelujah’ shouts the Bishop while the crowd’s hysteria deepens. Small black children, not quite understanding why they are there flitter about passing through chairs aimlessly. I am reminded of my childhood in the Gurdwara, running around looking for fun and meeting with friends. I was always aware that it was a religious place but I had guns to fire and fires to light. A young child smiles at me, his big innocent brown eyes amongst the hysteria is poignant. Who am I and why I am here? I am a Sikh Briton standing in an evangelical church wandering how my peace of mind ever evaded me… I head for the door where the African lady gives me a flyer with church opening times and makes me repeat a prayer. I oblige, tell her I am Sikh and wander back to my car in deep thought… This is the kind of experience that repeatedly forces me to work out who I am. So what am I? Where do I belong and how will I decide to live my life and under which teachings?

I guess my point is this – I am trying to work out who I am. I have an issue with my identity and I want to explore it further. No matter what, my colour or identity have no bearing on the goals I set for myself in life so for now maybe I should be concentrating on them… Any ideas?

Today, the issue for Muslims is just as significant. Are they Muslim first and British second? Many believe they are Muslim first and this view tarnishes their reputation with many believing they become fanatical. What am I first? Sikh? Indian? Punjabi? British? I don't even know anymore... My episode at the church signified to me that I had no path, no clarity about my identity and consequently no peace of mind. I search for answers.

I am a man. I was once a boy.
I am a son, a brother, an uncle, a nephew.
I am brown. I am coloured. I am non-white.
I am Asian. I am Indian. I am Sikh.
I am a minority. I am ethnic.
I am a paki, a golliwog, a raghead, a nigger.
I should go back to where I come from. Where do I come from?
My home is here. We breathe the same air. We cry the same tears.

I am human.

Our greatest strength as a human race is our ability to acknowledge our difference, our greatest weakness is our failure to embrace them.