Rainy days

I do love rainy days

The way the droplets cloak my windows

In a silvery, eyelid mosaic

With the more adventurous ones careening down

To meet their watery, window-pane fate.

I like the way the sky has no gradient

An equal grey

And the sound of the raindrops means

I have no need to open my music player.

I like the way the tar roads reflect car wheels - 

Like dusty mirrors upon the earth

And the chill that stings the air

For it makes my tea feel warmer

And the day seem cosier.

Stay home, the rain seems to say

And watch me fill up the rivers.

And when you drink a glass of water,

think of me prepping for my next performance.

Not a native speaker

But I'm not a native speaker

Never mind that

The first book I

read

At 7 -

Devoured

Dreamed

Imagined

And smelled

Was in English.

Never mind that

The first article I

had to my name

At 8 -

A tale

Simple but true

Was in English.

Never mind that

When I dreamed

And thought

And wove realms of fantasy

I only used

English.

Never mind that

When hope abandons

me

And tears beckon -

I pray

In English.

I have slowly and with some measure of bitterness realized, that Indians aren't considered 'native' English speakers. This word - 'native'; it has grated on my nerves ever since I stepped out of the country. No one owns any language, even if it's your mother tongue. Languages are so complex, products of thousands of years of evolution and innumerable additions, subtractions, borrowings, and layering. And they are like babies; anyone can adopt a tongue and make it their own. The poem above encapsulates my feelings on the "official" classification of "native" English speakers, as someone who has heard, spoken, read, and written English since she was born. I do speak four other languages (three Indian, and one European) but for better or worse, English IS my primary language.

I don't want a tribe.

You talk to the opposite sex -

They say ‘Find your tribe’

You marry outside your caste –

They say ‘Find your tribe’

You go to another city -

They say ‘Find your tribe’

You go to a different country –

They say ‘Find your tribe’

But I say -

My tribe’s the whole world

And everything that walks upon it

And all that lies between the sky and the earth

And all that lurks beyond

And if not,

I’d rather stand alone.