It was such a lovely thing on that Friday morning of June 7 to watch people of non-East Indian descent, especially our African brothers and sisters, lining up at Mix Indian food outlet obliquely opposite Len Hap in Duncan Village, San Fernando, to purchase their three-dollar saheenas and aloo pies.

I go beyond the usual rhetoric of racial unity every time we see something that smacks of such (when politically, we are worlds apart) into the spontaneity with which this diverse group stood lined in orderly fashion to have their share of a delicacy, with no awkward looking back or sideways to see if anyone was sneering at their eagerness to have something that was intrinsically ‘Indian’.

It is as if they had become so natural in showing their love for something that is normally the creation of another group-which, to me, is what true integration is all about; not the mamaguy we often see.

And that Friday morning seemed to be the moment in time to witness this natural fusion of our peoples, for here I was having a cursory glance at the presenter on CNC3’s Morning Brew obviously responding to the rhythm of Ravi B’s rendition [of Sonny Mann’s] ‘Lotala’, with no reservation whatsoever about an Indian item taking centre stage on this morning talk show.

You may say it happens all the time with Indian items on such programmes, but here I am speaking of an integration in the subconscious deep in our psyche and which flows like a gurgling stream down the rocky mountainside when the moment comes.

I remember well at Skinner Park when the presumption that anything Indian in calypso was a travesty, so much so that rolls of toilet paper were thrown at the Indian calypsonian who dared to bring an Indian song like ‘Lotala’ at the mecca of soca in Skinner Park.

But even with such an anomaly, I know of the spontaneity in the response to Indian calypsonians like Rikki Jai and Drupatee Ramgoonai, and entertainers like the Ramnarines, to ‘Caribbeanise’ Indian rhythms and the infectious ‘jump up and wave’ they produce in all and sundry.

And there are so many other ways in which this deeply embedded togetherness in our subconsciousborn out of years of continuous interaction, especially in the villages of this country-manifests itself: like in the relationships we build; looking out for one another in these dangerous times; sharing a hand of fig or piece of yam from the garden with ‘neighb’; offering a ride to the child next door as the parents don’t have a car; or inviting the other to a prayer meeting or pooja.

It’s what we are at the core of our collective being as a diverse people.

All in all, we are a beautiful people with a naturally evolving assimilation resulting from the way one group slowly filters into that of the other to produce something unique, new and refreshing.

It’s only the politicians who seek to disrupt this spontaneous coming together, pushing us into a kind of tribalism to ensure their own political longevity and, in the process, serving themselves instead of the people; with the disastrous consequences of which we are all aware.

I won’t spoil the tenor of this letter by quoting some of the gory details of how we have become a living hell as these politicians continue to fiddle while Rome burns-which is why I continue to find inspiration in moments like the ones I described above, seeing them as little flickers of light in this overwhelming Area of Darkness.

Dr Errol Narine Benjamin