so long lakshmyya.

i understand
the necessity of a T.V.
when money swims low
and your kids can barely eat.

i get
getting away
as a means to survive.

but i wish you'd asked me for something
more easily justified,
or maybe only less conspicuous--

like a meal
or new shoes
or a check.

and i regret
showing up a liar,
empty-handed,
T.V.-less.

so goodbye lakshmyya;
blame me for your losses,
for your unfulfilled requests.
curse me for not packing your 7 grandkids
in my carry-on bag

and remember me begrudgingly
when you're missing the static hum
of a television set.

oh you fancy huh.

lakshmi pointed at my naked ears

as we were sharing an umbrella

and lectured,

"all fancy women must wear earrings."

i laughed

and tugged at my plain, sorry ears--

the same ears my sister used to fold in half

and scotch tape down,

snickering, "elf!"

when we were bored in church.

i wanted to tell lakshmi that i like my ears unadorned--

these tired ears that i stuck with a needle in the seventh grade

because ma wouldn't let me get my cartilage pierced;

for good reason,

it ended in infection

and i can still feel the lumps.

but lakshmi,

these days i'm learning

i like those simple things best.

i like my skin bare

and my words clear

and my friendships the same.

and though they might appear austere,

i swear,

these ears can still listen.

. . .

india

is a hard place to be

when you're nineteen and feeling free

but still unsure of the person who you want to be.

and india

is guaranteed

to create dissonance

between what you believe

and everything you see.

it's a country overcrowded with bodies

but you won't see a single person.

and all those little faces you saw on tv before you came,

housing big, pleading eyes

and hungry mouths,

well they aren't as cute

when they follow you home,

amma, amma

and you have no change,

paisa, paisa

and change won't change much,

and you're sorry.

no, they aren't as cute

when they come from behind

pin your arms to your sides

and their friends, all under ten,

pick your pockets with well-trained hands.

india;

it's a really hard place to be

when you're trying to decide

what school to go to in the fall

or what boy to date back home

and you're still of the conviction that it matters

because you

you're going to do big things.

it's hard,

when nothing reminds you of home

but it's all you can think of anyways.

india is a place you'll want to forget

when you're back in the states

trying to materialize your most basic dreams--

the ones you always felt you deserved--

of a house, a husband, a few kids, & enough to eat.

it's a place that will make you hungrier for that dream

than you've ever been before

but india is a place

that will hide in the back of your mind and whisper,

maybe deserve

isn't a real word

or at least not a word with real meaning.