Малайзийская писательница ищет утраченную деревню деда в Индии для восстановления семейных корней

PETALING JAYA: What do we lose when we leave home? For generations of Malaysians, the answer may lie in places they have never visited, names they have never heard and stories that were never passed down. Yasotha Jegathesan knows this from personal experience. The 58-year-old, who spent 14 years of her corporate career in Bangalore, India, has spent decades trying to piece together her family’s connection to the country her grandfather once left behind. That journey eventually became “Soul Return: A Spiritual Memoir of Ancestral Remembrance”, in which Yasotha documents her search for a deeper connection with her ancestry and cultural heritage. Specifically, she is trying to locate her grandfather’s village in Dharmapuri, Tamil Nadu. Earlier this year, she managed to recover some of his letters, including several that had previously been lost. They may yet offer valuable clues to a family history fragmented over generations. Her grandfather’s story particularly fascinates her because “he did not arrive in Malaya through the British system that brought many Indian labourers to the country – he came independently and worked as a teacher, teaching astrology, Tamil and Sanskrit”, she told FMT Lifestyle. More than anything, finding his village is about recovering the places, customs and traditions that once formed part of her family’s life. Yasotha’s own upbringing was closely connected to Tamil culture. Her family celebrated Pongal, Tamil New Year, Vinayaka Chaturthi and Deepavali, went to the temple regularly, and observed an annual ritual before Deepavali to honour their ancestors. As a schoolgirl, she also learnt Bharatanatyam, veena – the classical stringed instrument – and Sangeetam. Yet even with those traditions intact, there were gaps in the family story. One tradition she believes deserves more attention among Malaysian Indians is the “Kula Deivam”, the family or village deity traditionally worshipped by one’s ancestors. “When we migrated, many lost their connection with their village deity,” she said. “This is a very important aspect that the Malaysian Indian diaspora should focus on, because these deities are the ones our ancestors prayed to. “That disconnect is why we became severed from our roots, values and rituals.” For Malaysian Indians who want to investigate their own ancestry, Yasotha suggests starting with what is available: old photographs, letters, names, and conversations with parents and grandparents. Archival records in India can also help, while older temples and villages may offer clues through conversations with elderly residents. There is a catch, however. “Anyone can claim to be your family. So that is something you have to be very cautious about.” Ultimately, Yasotha wants younger generations to understand their roots and ancestral heritage better. At the same time, she stressed that heritage is not simply about ancestry or race. To her, it is also found in “the things families inherit and continue; the language we speak, the food we eat, the rituals practised at home and the temples we visit” – everyday practices that help anchor one’s identity. As for “Soul Return”, she hopes it will reach audiences beyond the page. She is also exploring ways to adapt the memoir into a theatrical production, with a film adaptation as a longer-term goal. In the meantime, Yasotha continues looking for her grandfather’s village. Her story is far from over. And perhaps that is what makes the journey worth documenting. Reconnecting with where we come from does not always begin with having all the answers. Sometimes, it begins with asking the right questions while there are still people around who can answer them. Get your copy of ‘Soul Return’ here.