The Jain Empire

Dear Followers,

I am eight feet away from a scene which threatens to rupture the space-time continuum. Seated around a single wooden dinner table are 11 full grown members of the Jain Empire. Not even my second-rate headphones cranked up to the highest volume level can crowd out this orchestral sound. Every few seconds my Thai Ji and Bua erupt with laughter only to be overtaken by my Thou Ji’s deep chuckles. Mama’s rhythmic jokes always reach the punch line right on cue while his hand movements conduct the crowd. My Didi and Bhai are busy playing with the dogs in the backyard while Chachu Ji drinks an ice cold beer. Indian honorifics are a mess. I prefer just using the classic “Auntie” and “Uncle.”

Yesterday was the first time in my life that somebody had referred to me as a member of the Jain Empire. I liked the ring of that phrase. I was at an Indian graduation party on a broken swing swaying back and forth like a pendulum, counting down the minutes until I would be able to leave. Speaking of the graduation party, my cousin’s daughter, the only biological one, was celebrating her acceptance into WashU. Some which way or another, I was probably related to 85% of the partygoers who crowded into that backyard. No, I don’t mean a common ancestor from hundreds of years ago (while, I guess Krishna Bua could be that old). The Jain Empire is simply that big.

My family is a unique conglomeration indeed. My eldest Bhai is homosexual and has recently found a new boyfriend. My Didi decided to adopt a majority of her kids from India while my other Didi is busy working in the Galapagos. I have direct relatives in Plymouth, North Oaks, Maple Grove, Toronto, New York, New Delhi, Jaipur, and San Diego. The upper half of my family lives in multimillion dollar homes while the bottom half resides in suburban homes with a television in nearly every room. My family is made up of doctors, of architects, of NEETs, of engineers, of entrepreneurs, of CEOs, of lawyers, of authors. I have a hard time even remembering names.

I guess the Jain Empire for me begins way back with my father’s parents who had, unfortunately, passed away by the time I had reached middle school. I remember seeing both of my grandparents face’s through a small window as they were slowly eaten away, piece by piece, by bright flickering flames. I don’t really know if I plan on being cremated. The foundations of the Jain Empire were laid down with what I like to call, “The Original Five.” Krishna Bua, Neelam Bua, Vipin Thou Ji, Anil Thou Ji, and, of course, Praveen. From “The Original Five,” through a mixture of marriages, the Jain Empire would soon come to encompass the Manglick, Garg, and Patel dynasties.

However, “The Great Schism” once threatened to usurp all of these gains in a single swoop several years back. My parents never like to talk to me about what happened. This retelling is only my interpretation from shreds of information my parents let slip. After “The Original Five” had moved out of the house, each was responsible for supporting my grandparents by sending them monetary aid every few months. With a young child and baby boy on the way, however, Praveen was unable to send his payment one month. Naturally, the rest of “The Original Five” was furious with him except for Neelam Bua who always protected her younger brother. The rest is history.

While my parents would never speak of what happened and pretended that everything was normal, I knew they were lying. My visits to Anil Thou Ji’s and Krishna Bua’s houses became more and more infrequent as I grew up. I remember when I was in elementary school we would all go to Toronto during the summer as a family. That was when I first started playing The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker. We haven’t all gone up together in our minivans since. Eventually I knew everything had reached a low point. Neelam Bua wouldn’t even speak to Anil Thou Ji after one dinner party. I don’t remember seeing Anil Thou Ji at Fufa Ji’s funeral.

Since then much has smoothed over, but the scars from the conflict remain. I hardly know most of my relatives. Aside from a few random conversations here and there, they remain complete strangers to me. The fact that I am the only one my age in my family doesn’t help either. I can’t help but feel left out when they can have conversations of shared vacation memories while all I can do is try my best to fit in. For Shray, who grew up when our family was a cohesive whole, such notions as “The Great Schism” probably don’t even exist. Hopefully one day I will be able to relate with my relatives, but for now I can only try.

However, there is one thing which unites all members of the Jain Empire: our blood. Being a Jain is not recommended for the light hearted. We Jains are a fierce and competitive people. Try playing a game of spoons with us and coming out alive. No wonder every Jain male eventually loses his hair. We Jains are shrewd. You would be surprised just how much we know behind these smiling faces. We Jains know how to make the most of our money. Don’t be surprised if you come across a room full of coupons when you visit a Jain home. Finally, we Jains love unconditionally, and we never forget about one thing: our family.