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Diverse-City

I am often asked where are you from?
A question with an answer long drawn.
The place my dad was born is no longer a part of my country,
The place my mum was born is not for me…

The place(s) I grew up, are a few too many,
Home is not the place where I did my university.
Home is for today,
Home is now
The feeling…
Only if I hadn’t left it recently,
Shall I say my home is Diverse-City!

So diverse that I fumbled when they asked about my religion.
I wrote what I knew, that I am an Indian.
They mocked and laughed,
They thought I was such a graft.

I celebrate all festivals,
For me it’s a way of enjoying every culture,
I have learnt interesting nuances of life… 
For in Tajikistan they eat bread with melon,
And still dance to the tunes of Mithun and Helen…
Looking at your watch while talking,
In the Middle-East is considered mocking.

Pronunciations often become a point to judge
People even in the name of language tend to nudge,
How would anything change if I have a different accent,
As long as I can convey what it meant!

However, if you look closely,
These cultures are diverse but only loosely.
Basic values remain the same,
Respect, honesty, hygiene.. a few to name.

So what has this exposure done to me?
It’s has given me wings, set me free,
I will fit anywhere…
As if I have always belonged there.

Diverse to me means to converse,
Simply that the world is made up of people,
Cultures and differences are like the sepal…
Protecting, supporting and yet accepting,
Diverse-City has been my blessing!

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