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I am an adult Indian,
An English child,
A Moghul emperor,
A Christian bride!
I stay silently in me.
The Ganges,
Himalayas
and the blue seas;
The Prince of Wales museums
UNO, the
statue - of liberty’s;
converge, creating their ‘I’s in me…
To me are precious
the temple and the mosque,
gurdwaras, churches
and the synagogues;
I have listened to the Gita,
Grisham, Tagore,
De, P.G., Premchand, Steinbeck
and more;
….rhythmically to their scores in me…..
I’ve found joy
in sunlit green grasses glistening with dew,
roses, tulips, grasshoppers,
baby bears, the solemn kangaroo;
Thankyou mother
for everything
I can read, write,
and play in spring,
my mind is free -
not shackled
‘in narrow domestic walls’:
Tagore’s poems
teaching me:
“a citizen of this world”.
At times lost, but I’m sure
to ever uphold
your gifts, your eyes in me.
Thank you mother!
Smeetha Bhoumik
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