I am from,

The Saturday morning news ,

with the clinking of my grandmother’s pots.

The tradition of the village ghost stories,

In a routine every Sunday to oil my hair.

I am from ,

Those classic Bollywood movies ,

watched every Friday night.

I remember ,

Where the blistering July sun in India,

Tans my cookie brown skin.

I am from ,

Imaginary Barbie doll games ,

living a glossy life.

Books and mathematics,

about every single day.

I remember,

Spa days and painted nails ,

Supermarket shopping,

With my favourite meals every day.

I am from,

the holiday vacations to Disneyland,

where Minnie Mouse was my imaginary friend.

I remember the time,

Where I used to play piano,

Some high notes,

With some low notes.

But in the end played ,

A beautiful song.

I am from ,

Violin songs ,

Where twinkle twinkle little star ,

Was my first song.

I remember ,

Board games and scrabble ,

to the rainy days ,

Where the sun never shined.

I am from ,

The charcoal sketches I make ,

Where my hand moves swiftly across the paper.

I remember,

The watercolour paintings ,

Of fairies and flowers ,

To rainbows and Unicorns .

I am from ,

Yesterday and today,

following the dreams of tomorrow.

To writing my thoughts ,

on a piece of paper.

I am from,

Where I am today…