Corporate men in pinstripe suits
Sitting around the table in deep discussions
In accents of Lilting French ,Baritone German , Twangy American
Among them an Indian , worse a woman, Indian.
When I speak in tone, walk with the step
Eyebrows raise, they lean forward to hear better
Talk louder when addressing me,as if I were deaf
Telling me silently
‘You shouldn’t be here’
A crowded English pub, people
Standing in spaces too small for them
Leaving my group I go to order the drinks
The bartender stares and doesn’t get it when I say
‘A Bacardi breezer and 3 pints of lager’
Looking confused ,Leaning forward closer,
Telling me silently
‘You shouldn’t be here’.
Welcoming smiles, women in sarees
Sitting in front of a TV ,talking about the day
Grinding masalas, rolling chapattis, content
In the four walls, within the set boundaries
My hometown, my roots, so far from my branches
Ill at ease I sit
Listening to my own voice
Telling me silently, loudly
‘You shouldnt be here.’
Comments
Kurt Rellians | June 30, 2011 - 23:12
Good poem. It conjures up the scenes well. We can see how she is different, does not fit in, does not want to fit in.
AnnikaM | July 1, 2011 - 08:45
Kurt thanks..thats exactly what was trying to say..and the situations may be different, but it often happens that one doesnt want to fit in places they do fit!