This post is inspired by George Ella Lyon, who wrote a poem Where I’m From. I wanted to write a poem infused with the connection Ella Lyon uses throughout, while having my lifestyle reflected in the words.
I am from the heart-shaped rock I collected in my youth, kept as a memento for no particular reason.
From the years of well-loved and generously used sports equipment accumulated and kept in my closet for memories sake, and white shelves atop my desk which have grown alongside me, their contents evolving as my journey does too.
I am from the same 14 steps it has always taken me to climb the stairs, the lingering smell of rich intense spices, now one with my clothing, as a constant perfume, the pastel and icy blues and pinks of my room brightening under the rays of sunlight dancing in from my window, and the darkness of the night never quite taking over.
I am from the tiny baby-blue flowers that grow on the outskirts of the backyard, proving that the beauty of nature can be found in both plants and weeds, only if approached with an open mind; the appearance of “a wild plant in the wrong place” can be everso deceiving.
I’m from standing at the doorway just to be the last to wave goodbye to whomever leaves the house, and the several languages created solely ourselves as a product of mixing Hindi and English dialect together.
From the three names engrained in my mind, making up the family forever known in friend groups as “the one’s who never stop laughing”.
I’m from the laid-back Saturday mornings spent on the couch regardless of workload, and from the evening family walks with no certain direction.
From the countless lies told with all the good intentions: to instill discipline in my carefree mindset, and the reminders like “Time is of the essense”, and “The most daunting barriers in our lives are ones we create ourselves”.
I’m from Hamilton, though my blood foreign, the smell of heat and, simultaneously, warmth coming from the coveted vegetable never gone unused or unnoticed in dishes, and the homemade pizza recipe; an unpredictable or unconventional recipe to be memorized by an Indian family.
From the years upon years spent alongside both my sister and best friend, laughing for no particular reason, providing much-needed support and solidifying and ever strengthening our sisterhood despite the physical distance.
The two suitcases my parents packed their entire lives into before relocating to America in search of their new life, the hundreds of memories, frozen in time, captured in all their vividity, constantly reminding us four where we came from, and showing us just how many places we can go from here.