I Am From . . .

 

In an online group of life stories, facilitated by Ageless Possibilities, we were introduced to the format of the poem “I Am From”.

 

The I Am From project was originally aimed at students to celebrate diversity.

 

But it is also a wonderful tool for older adults looking back at their origins and life stories.

 

Here’s my attempt at it:

**

I am from the hot desert sand, from where palm trees sway

Heavy with fresh, golden dates hanging just out of reach.

I am from mudpies, made outside while parents napped

And the sun beat down on our bare, unprotected brown skin.

 

I am from the humble, square kitchen where my mother chopped

Onions on an old wooden table instead of a granite countertop.

And a squat meat-safe filled with forbidden tins of fruit soaking in rum

Ready for plump Christmas cakes, lightened by the scoops we pilfered.

 

And the same kitchen where

My mother and I stood at the sink, peeling shells off fat prawns

“Remember to pinch out the green strip of slime.”

‘Yes, Mummy, I know.”

While my siblings scattered, noses clamped in disgust

At a task that filled me with tactile glee.

 

 I am from the old Portuguese Fort, where we freely roamed and ran

Unaware our Goan roots linked the blood in our veins to the ancient stones.

I am from the long white stretches of beach

Reserved only for those whose skin matched the grains of sand.

 

I am from Christmas marzipans shaped into fruits, decorated with stems of clove

And Kulkuls twirled on forks to make doughy shells for the deep fryer.

I am from family bedtime stories and singsong picnics

And parties where children should be seen and not heard.

 

I am from: “Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be . . .”

My father singing while he shaved in the one bathroom we shared.

I am from: “Wait and see.”

I am from where the future was not ours, you see.

**

For those readers who are too young to know the song Que Sera, Sera, here is a link to the lyrics. It was a very popular song with my parents’ generation.