I'm still waiting to be treated as an equal, not as a token

If not for the revolution, I would not be a White Sox fan.

My parents would never have left Bangalore, India, to come to Chicago.

I'd be playing fantasy cricket online.

At least the computer would be locally built.

My parents came to the land of opportunity, leaving all their friends and family behind in the 1970s. They came from two different castes, which didn't make my mother's family happy. They didn't come to the wedding. There's still animosity between the families.

Recently, I looked through some old photos, and there's me in a blue suit -- I must have been 4 -- sitting in front of a birthday cake decorated with a giant Indian flag.

When I turn 29 on Saturday, I won't be eating a cake with flags on it.

I'm proud of who I am, and lot of why I'm in journalism is to defuse stereotypes. Across the pond in America, in 2007, I have no need for animosity toward Pakistan. None.

As for the mainstream, no longer am I just associated with Gandhi. Now, I catch references from Apu from "The Simpsons" or Kumar from "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle." Even that guy from No Doubt.

Hurray for pop culture.

Do you know how many people told me to see "The Namesake," just because a character's name in the film is "Ashoke?" That extra "E" at the end would have been handy when telling people how to pronounce my name.

Such is the wait for the second generation. Waiting for people to understand that being a doctor or taxi driver are only options, not a destiny. Waiting to be treated as an equal, not as a token.

Sunday's fire that killed three Indian immigrants in Naperville reminded me that the wait continues, as a photo can tell a thousand words.

The Daily Herald and other local media ran images of the roadside memorial in front of the home, with three crosses with the victims' names.

Cultural differences usually don't matter at a time like this. This is a time to mourn tragedy any way you choose.

But I remain bothered. The Tiwaris weren't Christians. They were Hindu Brahmins. How appropriate -- and accurate -- is a crucifix in this situation? One cross even had the girl's name spelled incorrectly.

The lasting image about this family to many could be that image, which isn't indicative of who they were. It angered me both as a journalist and as an Indian-American.

Certainly this wasn't malicious. I know a bit about roadside memorials, as I used to cover the police beat. Fire. Death. Memorial. It's an easy choice to use the photo.

But I wonder what kind of turmoil would have been set in motion if it had been a Catholic family and there were a series of Stars of David.

I opened up the photo e-mailed to me by Naperville police Tuesday and gasped. Eighteen-month-old Ananya looked like the spitting image of my younger sister.

Seeing that young girl with her brother, I couldn't help but relate.

Again, I sit and wait hoping for more opportunities, more understanding. Perhaps with more education we, like everyone else, would have done better.

There are 1 billion Indians, and many with families over there live in America. It's time to take the time to educate.

If salsa can become America's No. 1 condiment, the sky's the limit in this melting pot.