Monday, April 17, 2006

Cross Culture

You will change me to Indian
You will plait my hair
You will teach me to smile, wag my head, greet with praying hands,
and accept service, to eat with my hand and wash up, to use saree and chudidar,
to cover my head for prayer, to clap and sing unison.

You will give me four names and millions of neighbors,
a straw hut, the Bay of Bengal, a Nah Nah and Amah,
haystacks and freeroaming livestock, traffic and false gods,
curd and curry, rice and dahl, idly and sambar,
tiffin and tea, flooded train tracks and a hand that moved the storm.

You will give me the nations in beggars, widows, homeless and orphans.
You will show me the kingdom where my marriage is arranged.

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