My parents
from Chikmagalur
My context
the old forgotten gulf
My constant
english entertainment
A true false third culture kid
Let me be one of your continentals, Shahid
Let me study for a degree that makes me no money
In the Gulf I was taught to be patriotic
Now mom says I’m not enough nationalistic
Accounts of large crowds, told matter-of-factly
What taint is attached to the journalistic?
Thirty years spent meekly, then explosion of hatred
on return, no empathy. Why am I not optimistic?
No one walks anymore, only iron bubbles on bad roads
eyes closed to the scores gathering at Majestic
I am drowning, holding on to the feminine
While here insists on being chauvinistic.