The Tibetan in Mumbai
is not a foreigner.
He is a cook
at a Chinese takeaway.
They think he is Chinese
run away from Beijing.
He sells sweaters in summer
in the shade of the Parel Bridge.
They think he is some retired Bahadur.
The Tibetan in Mumbai
abuses in Bambaya Hindi,
with a slight Tibetan accent
and during vocabulary emergencies
he naturally runs into Tibetan.
That's when the Parsis laugh.
The Tibetan in Mumbai
likes to flip through the MID-DAY,
loves FM, but doesn't expect
a Tibetan song.
He catches the bus at a signal,
jumps into a running train,
walks into a long dark gully
and nestles in his kholi.
He gets angry
when they laugh at him
'ching-chong-ping-pong'.
The Tibetan in Mumbai
is now tired,
wants some sleep and a dream.
On the 11pm Virar Fast,
he goes to the Himalayas.
The 8.05am Fast Local
brings him back to Churchgate
into the Metro: a New Empire.
Tenzin Tsundue
What I most like about this poem is that most often, than not, a Tibetan is confused for a Chinese 'Ching Chong, Ping Pong' guy , also that he is making a living in a Chinese Takeaway. And ironically Tibet is fighting against China.
I showed this poem to a friend, and he wasn't able to appreciate it, but when we went to a Chinese restaurant the next day, he did ask, whether for fun, or seriously, I don't know...but he did ask "Would this guy be a Tibetan???" I think the poem solves its purpose now.
You can and must read more of Tenzin Tsundue's poems here. This one is my favorite.
2 comments:
I love this..mainly because of the universality of the subject. Is that so different from anyone who lives in a land where they look different from those around them? Stereotypes are as common as the air we breathe...it just helps us make sense of the world and deal with information/sensations that are foreign to us. When taken to the extreme...well there is no dearth of examples in world events that have been caused by taking stereotyping to the extreme.
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