On the 80th Indian Independence Day, Indian Americans might be thinking about two flags, two histories and one complicated identity.
On one side is the red, white and blue of America. On the other is the saffron, white and green of India. For the Indian American, these colors are not merely symbols of two countries. They are threads in a fabric that we have spent generations learning to weave together and not so well.
There is something striking about the two flags. They share white, yet the meaning of belonging represented by that common color is not quite so simple. For an Indian American, the question of whether we are fully seen as belonging has often remained more complicated than the colors of either flag suggest.
In America, we can be citizens and still sometimes be asked where we are really from. We can be born here and still be perceived through the lens of ancestry, skin color or a name that sounds foreign. In India, we can speak the language, understand the customs and carry generations of cultural memory, yet be reminded that we are Americans.
Perhaps that tension is at the heart of what it means to be Indian American.
We live between two ideas of identity. One is rooted in citizenship and the promise that belonging is ultimately defined by the principles we share. The other is rooted in ancestry, culture, memory and the inheritance of generations. Neither is inherently wrong. But they operate differently, and the Indian American often learns early that identity is not always as simple as choosing a box.
That may be why the colors of the two flags matter.
The red, white and blue of America represents an extraordinary experiment in self government, individual liberty and the proposition that citizenship can transcend ancestry. Its promise is that we are not ultimately defined by where our ancestors came from, but by the principles to which we commit ourselves.
The saffron, white and green of India carries a different but equally profound inheritance. Saffron evokes courage, sacrifice and renunciation. White represents peace and truth. Green speaks to life, fertility and the earth. At the center is the Ashoka Chakra, a reminder that a civilization cannot remain alive without movement, responsibility and moral progress.
Perhaps the opportunity for Indian Americans is not to decide which set of values belongs to us, but to understand what each can teach us.
America can teach us the dignity of individual freedom, equality before the law, entrepreneurship and the extraordinary possibility of creating a future that is not predetermined by our past.
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India can give us something deeper than cultural nostalgia. It can give us an anchor to core values or the principles of Dharma such as samskara, sankalpa , sadhana and shraddha.
Samskara is the formation of character and core values . It reminds us that education is not simply the accumulation of knowledge or credentials. It is the process of becoming a certain kind of human being. Our children can become physicians, scientists, entrepreneurs and leaders, but none of those accomplishments means much if we have not taught them humility, gratitude, empathy and responsibility.
Sankalpa is the power of conscious intention. It is more than a wish. It is a commitment to act. It teaches us that values have meaning only when they are translated into choices, particularly when those choices are difficult and there is little recognition for making them.
Sadhana is the discipline of turning intention into practice. If samskara shapes who we become, sankalpa gives direction to what we seek, and shraddha gives us the faith to continue, then sadhana is the daily work that brings all three to life. It is the quiet repetition of effort, reflection and self discipline through which ideals become habits and habits become character. It teaches us that becoming a good human being is not a single achievement but a lifelong practice.
For an Indian American generation growing up between cultures, sadhana may be especially important because it reminds us that heritage is not something we simply inherit; it is something we practice, refine and ultimately pass forward.
Shraddha is perhaps the hardest of the three to translate. It carries the idea of faith, reverence and an inner conviction that something larger than immediate gratification is worth pursuing. It does not require us to abandon reason. Rather, it asks us to have faith in the value of truth, goodness, service, knowledge and human dignity.
These ideas have an extraordinary resonance with the American ideal.
Freedom without character can become entitlement. Ambition without responsibility can become exploitation. The Indian American experience gives us the opportunity to construct something better.
We should not raise children who believe they must constantly explain which side they belong to. We should raise children who understand that belonging does not have to be a zero sum proposition.
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They can love India without being less American. They can love America without being less Indian. They can inherit traditions without being imprisoned by them and embrace modernity without being ashamed of their heritage.
There is also something important we should teach them about race.
We should not pretend that color does not matter simply because we wish it did not. Nor should we teach our children to see themselves or others primarily through color. The reality is more complicated. Race has shaped the American experience, just as caste, community, language, region and religion have shaped the Indian experience.
But our children should learn to recognize those realities without allowing them to become the boundaries of their humanity.
That may be one of the most important contributions an Indian American generation can make.
We know what it feels like to carry more than one identity. We know that a person can be simultaneously connected to different histories. We know that belonging can be layered rather than singular.
That understanding should make us more capable of seeing the complexity in others.
The real test of our inheritance, therefore, should not be whether our children can recite the national anthem of two countries, celebrate two independence days or speak the language of their grandparents. Those are beautiful things, but they are only the visible expressions of something deeper.
The question is whether they become people of character.
Do they possess samskara?
Do they have the sankalpa to stand for something even when it costs them?
Do they have shraddha, the inner conviction that a life devoted to something larger than oneself is a life worth living?
And can they bring those qualities into the American promise of liberty and individual dignity?
That is where the warp and weft of the two identities begin to form something new.
A single thread cannot make a fabric. Strength comes from the way different threads cross one another, hold one another and create something that neither could create alone.
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The Indian American story is still being written. The first generation carried memories across an ocean. The next generation built careers, families and institutions. The generations that follow have a different responsibility. They must decide what is worth carrying forward.
Their inheritance should not simply be success.
It should be the ability to see another human being before seeing their race, religion, nationality or political identity.
Perhaps that is the deeper meaning of the color of belonging.
The colors of our flags may tell us where we came from. They do not have to dictate who we become.
On this Indian Independence Day, saffron, white and green blend with the red, white and blue not as competing identities, but as two histories that have come together in the lives of millions of people.
The challenge before us is not to erase the differences between them.
It is to live those differences with enough confidence, humility and wisdom that they become a source of strength rather than division.
Because perhaps belonging is not about choosing a color.
Perhaps it is about becoming worthy of the values that those colors represent.