I Pull my Sleeves
- Nemaste Nepal
- Feb 19, 2022
- 1 min read
a poem by: Arnima Shrestha
Dear Nemaste,
I pull the sleeves
Up to my wrists
Hiding from light
Falling on my skin
I look around me
In this classroom
Full of colours
But in this sea of colours
Will a wave wash over me?
Drenching me with monotony?
Will this wave feed me
With more of me
The wave feeds me
With people
Who I desire to be
But even though they look like me
Even though their tongue moves like me
They aren’t me
And nor will they ever be
They tell me
They love my hair
It’s thick
Like theirs
They tell me
They love the way
My tongue moves
It matches their
Unstressed and stressed
Syllables
They tell me
They love the clothes
I shelter myself under
The clothes
They think
Only they wear
But
They ask me
Where in their country
I come from
They tell me
They look better
In my clothes
They tell me
I look like them
That I am them
With the salt rubbed
in my eyes
All I wish
Is to see
A world that represents me
A world that doesn’t group me
A world that accepts me
For the mountains I stand on
For the crimson and sky I am
For the kha ka ga’s I speak
Alas
I pull the sleeves
Up to my wrists
Hiding from light
Falling on my skin
I look around me
In this classroom
Full of colours
But in this sea of colours
Will a wave wash over me?
Drenching me with monotony?
Sincerely,
Arni <3
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