I am from the mango orchards, the fruit of summer
from that old mud house and dusty lanes.
I am from the undulating paddy fields,
and the vast yellow wheat plains.
I am from the endless stretch of marigold,
the happy bougainvillea.
I am from the painting and reading books,
from Rukmini and Nom.
From nani, a small girl and gudiya, a doll.
I am from Tarai and hills
and, rice and chicken soup.
From helping and being honest,
from alcoholism and education.
I am from lush green plains,
from the deep dark woods,
from the compassion that gives you life.