Colonial Master!

Polish my tongue with sandpaper

Till it becomes civilized

Purge me of my imperfections

The R's , D's and the nods

My master wouldn’t approve

So fix me , bathe my tongue in acid

Until it is smooth, smothered

No exaggerated consonants,

No mispronounced vowels,

Then take a towel and clean my tongue

It is fiendish and brown

It’s dirty and uncivilized.

Teach me how to be , how to talk,

How to think ,Teach me what to think.

Teach me your tongue, Oh master! 

Cull my sound to calm my soul

There is a scent to my master's tongue

That lingers on my lips

My mother reeks of decay

And that stench embalms my body.

So purge me purify me,

Sanctify and civilize me.

I choose my master over my mother

Round the edges on my letters,

Smoothen the crests on my character

Flatten me, Make me like you

Pale and polished.

No more D's , R's , and nods

Beat my tongue with a rod

Made of finesse and manners

Punctuations and grammar,

Beat my tongue till it is numb,

Till it is innocent enough to believe you.

And then teach it your ways,

Your movements and European kisses,

The hugs and hidden hisses,

And when my tongue fights back,

Deprive it of water , subject it to torture

And then finally after it’s noisy protest.

Teach me the poise,

The posture, the posturing.

And then finally after it’s noisy protest

The white noise.

And then Butcher the fat off of my tongue

So that I swivel words in your drivel,

So that I form thoughts in your treble

And then I smell like you a little more

And my decaying mothers chokes,

I grab her by the neck and squeeze,

Squeeze her neck so hard,

And I see my mothers eyes shut

As I strangle her and she smiles

No more D's , R's and nods

My tongue is now sawed

The turpentine burns but helps,

The surgery left scars,

But the doctor says the

Operation was successful

My tongue looks like my masters

And I look like the

Sawdust that remains.

My mother was cremated on a pyre

Yet the fire of indignation

And the bastard son shines bright.

Her aged body etched with lessons

Love and desire, now meanders

Through the ravines of Varanasi.

Where she can still be found decaying

‘Maa’ becomes ‘Mom’

‘Baba’ becomes ‘Dad’

...

And I became the Master.