an OCI card stuck

soundlessly inside an American passport.


latent Tamil muffled with English and

early memories

of rotis and Amitabh Bachchan

on Saturdays swallowed whole

by Chipotle and Mad Men.


mango-flavored ice cream

concentrated kulfi,

Kohlapuri chappals worn

with jeans.


It looks like a coconut.


tearing a roti with one hands not two

hands manicured with Lakme

polish, good for Indian skin.


neem mask

for blemishes

on the face

wiping it clean.


picking the brown spots

off my rotis, spots

that look like scabbed over



a potted jasmine starved

for the sun.


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