I think one of the most beautiful things about different cultures is that the smallest things can carry so much meaning. We may inherit our beliefs and the values that shape who we are, but we have a choice in the way we express them, and it is often the remembrance of what it represents that deepens our connection to our unique heritage.

As a Hindu, I love the sari. I love the colours, the patterns, the way it is draped and how a simple piece of cloth can carry so much history. There is something profoundly inexplicable in tying one around our bodies, it gives me goose bumps knowing that thousands of women before us wore them too. It can be passed from one generation to another and still feel like home.

Then there is the little diya in our homes. A simple lamp with a wick, some oil and a flame, but I think about how many hands have lit one before mine. How many homes have had that little light glowing inside them. How something so small can connect us to something much greater than ourselves.

We practise unique traditions that are rooted from different parts of India, and this entwines with our South African Heritage that blooms in diversity.

This is what I love about my heritage and culture. There is always something beneath what we see. There are little pieces of the people who came before us attached to the things they left behind.

Unfortunately, I have also seen what happens when we forget that. When we start measuring culture by what people wear, what they own, how much they spend or how grand their celebrations are. Beautiful traditions can easily become a reason to compare ourselves to one another, and our culture should never be something we use to make someone else feel small. That is not the heritage I want to carry.

A lehenga is beautiful, but so is a sari, and so is the jewellery, the embroidery, the colours and all the things we wear when we celebrate our culture. None of these things make one person more connected to their culture than another. Our culture is not a competition, or a status symbol, and it should never become a reason to look down on someone else because what sits beneath the beauty matters more than the price tag.

The stories, the memories, the meaning and the people who carried these things before us matter. I can love my culture and feel proud of my heritage without having to prove that I belong to it through what I wear, and I think this is something we sometimes forget when we talk about heritage. We become so focused on what culture looks like that we forget what it holds.

We admire the clothing, we know the lamp represents light over darkness, but there is more depth to the story behind it. We place our palms together in prayer and continue traditions from our ancestors. We still use our grandmothers recipes, although nothing can replicate the taste of her cooking. We hear the beat of the tabla, and feel something in our chest. We watch the Bharatanatyam dancers and feel a sense of pride, every sound and movement has a meaning.

There is that inexplicable feeling that connects us all, and that is the heritage I am proud of. It is mine because it was passed down generations to reach me, and now it is my responsibility to carry forward. I admire the beauty of my culture, but more than that, I am proud of what is beneath the beauty. Our heritage is not made meaningful by the way it looks. It is made meaningful by what it carries, what it gives us and what we choose to pass on.

BY EKTA SOMERA

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