"Where I'm From" adaptation by Shishir Acharya

I am from the bushel,

From white Urea to brown Superphosphate.

I am from animal compost,

settled beneath finger- nails,

(Dark, shiny; smelled like paddy husk).

I am from the stretches of Sal,

stubborn- fighting both man and nature.

I am from nighttime stories and mud hearth,

from Pokhrel to Acharya,

I am from ‘love-your-land’

and ‘see-the-world’,

I am from ‘Old days were beautiful”

and ‘Time does no injustice.’

from 4 am chants and sweat salvation.

I am from Dangbhang and pastures of Mahabharata.

Sorgham flour and buffalo milk.

From two- hour long hike to school my Uncle made,

Job my mom chose to quit,

to take care of us.

In my grandmother’s old wooden cupboard,

Constantly fighting the termites,

Lies all the memories.

You may only see the happy faces,

But look deep beneath those forehead wrinkles,

You will see kids my grandmother miscarried,

Legal battles and lands my grandfather lost.

I’m from those sacrifices,

A dream trying to shed lights on thousand dark days.