When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, her words and syllables flow like fragments of poetry, each hint of her accent and gentle pronunciation a harmonizing melody of blood and ancestry.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, I listen in awe to the story of my roots streaming into my hollow heart as a trail of beautiful strength. The delicacy of words such as aafreen and khoobsurat, enlightening my soul with an indescribable appreciation and tenderness.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, I am reminded of the soil and clay that has molded me into the flesh and bones of a continued legacy seeking justice. Each letter tickles my spine with curiosity and an eagerness to listen to the stories of my ancestors.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, a revolution occurs in her presence: a passionate and fervent movement of advocating for the beauty of our heritage that has been imprisoned by Anglicized shackles.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, I am taken to the days of her childhood, filled with sweet and sticky jalebi and early mornings hinted with cardamom spiced chai.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, my heart desires to learn the language, from the etymology of each word and expression to the great works of poets and authors.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, similes and metaphors whisper into my ear. Each simile and metaphor imparting the gift of courage to my trembling anxieties.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, her words spill like paint and embrace my heart with their everlasting beauty. Her words, shades of passionate reds and soothing blues, decorating my soul with exuberance.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, tears of honey slowly fill my eyes as my heart sings in gracious thanks, for the rhythm of her voice complements the rhythm of my heartbeat.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, I pray that she never becomes insecure of the beauty that exists within her voice. I pray that her lungs and heart continue to recognize their exquisiteness in creating the melody that flows into my soul.
When the mother tongue flows from my mother’s lips, I pray that society one day recognizes the beauty I see.
Rimel Kamran is a current high school junior and an aspiring writer. She believes that voices are powerful and that each individual should have the opportunity to share the unique voice within them. Her poetry aims to build community, gain a deeper understanding of humanity, advocate for justice, and share her heritage and culture. She hopes to inspire others through her poetry to share their voice and recognize the marvels of humanity. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, listening to music, traveling, and pursuing her interests in the science and medical fields.