Letter to my 12 year old self
-Avleen Kaur Lamba
Amma always made you believe you were invincible
After living in 2 countries, 4 cities and 6 schools
You’ve begun to feel that home is a feeling that goes away
As soon as you begin to feel comfortable
In foreign land, where you were not judged for your accent
Where American kids came to your birthday
You were suddenly being stared at
People started questioning your father’s turban
And with a seven month old baby in your mother’s tummy
You all returned back home three weeks after September 11
Back home you were hailed for your new accent
You don’t recognize your country
Your people- still colonized.
And now you’re 12
You come back to your very roots
The place you were born in
Not a metro city (McDonalds opened a few days ago here)
Nobody likes to sit with you
Nobody picks you in any sports team
They say you’re too fat, too different, too weird
You make a friend, you don’t know what a bully means
The sun sets with you writing apology letters
And folding your hands in sorries for not being able to keep the bully happy
Life doesn’t make sense to you
Existentialism hit you quite early in life
But this letter is from a prophet from 2017
And you’re not meant to know how life goes on for you
But here’s a heads up.
- You’ll never let one part of yourself be accommodated into conformity, your LOUD laugh!
- You’ll befriend two boys. One who stammers, and one who’s gay. The three of you together will create comic books and stories and one day, will save the world.
- You’ll always be the librarian’s favorite kid.
- The security guard uncle will be your only constant friend.
- You’ll meet this handsome boy who will tell you to be yourself. And you’ll be so unapologetically you that the strongest of winds wouldn’t be able to shake your identity.
- You’ll befriend the entire school and while some ask you to have less friends, you’ll be busy hugging out the misery from everyone you see.
- You’ll choose one subject, score in another and finally fall for another.
- You’ll make yourself a home wherever you go, one made out of ideas and orchids.
- You’ll become a poet. And writing this letter to yourself, You’ll be invincible, again.