An old memory, an old language, a new accent
The story of my first poem written in Hindi, and my first poetry video as well!
First of all I have to admit—video is not my thing. But, inspired by dear friend and artist Mary Louise Marino who did the beautiful video poem about my poem Bazaar, I thought I’d complete this one that’s been sitting around for a while.
As I asked my daughter to help me finish this video for my Hindi poem Summer Camp Mein, I asked her if she remembered the Summer Camp counselor she had met who the poem was about.
She shrugs.
“Which year was it?”
She shrugs.
All I remember is she was in elementary school. I don’t think she did camp after that.
As I mentioned in the earlier post, April, Poetry & Me, I had two poems selected for the anthology Written in Arlington, edited by Katherine Young, Monday Morning & Chai and In Summer Camp which was the translation from the Hindi Summer Camp Mein. Katherine also had spoken word and videos of readings on the project’s YouTube channel called Spoken in Arlington. I had promised to make my Hindi poem into a video to share.
But it turned out to be harder than I had expected. I hated the Hindi I spoke now. It wouldn’t do.
Hindi is one of my native languages from India which I don't use anymore having lived many years in the US. I worked on another project last summer, Sing to Me, Mr. Shuffle! where I shared the story of a series of four pandemic paintings. In that I listen to favorite Hindi movie songs and do expressive calligraphy using the Roman cursive and Devanagari scripts to write the lyrics, and so for the story I recorded my voice reciting the lyrics from the movie songs. Just a few lines each. After the online reception where I shared the video of the story with my pre-recorded voice, I asked one of two friends I have spoken Hindi with over the last 21 years in the US, “Is there an American accent in my Hindi?”
She nodded vaguely, using our special Indian head waggle, which actually means a very specific thing which people might not know about. It is neither yes or no, but it says, “chalega” or “will do.”
I was not okay with will do. I was stunned. My Hindi was ruined.
In this poetry video I return to the place where my daughter, Ananya, attended summer camp, long ago in Arlington, Virginia. As I walk down the old path I film the familiar walk back home and some old forgotten scenes from her elementary school days of summer camp. To the film I add my voice, American accent and all, and narrate the poem I had written in Hindi. I think I wrote this in Hindi because of the camp counselor my daughter was so mesmerized by, Ms Maheen, who was Pakistani American, or "Desi."
My daughter had once noted how I, an Indian, and her friend’s mom who was from Pakistan, spoke a common language even though we came from different countries. Which reminds me, there are a couple more people I have spoken Hindi with in the US, two Pakistani American women who live in my neighborhood. Even though the script used in the two countries are different—the Urdu script used to write Urdu in Pakistan, and the Devanagari script used to write Hindi in India—the spoken language is almost identical.
An earlier title for this poem was Desi, meaning a person of Indian, Bangladeshi, or Pakistani origin. A person from “the country” because Desi means country.
I love how this word Desi goes across geographical divides that colonists and politicians came up with-Sush, Katherine wrote to me in an email. Check out what it means and here is the English translation of this poem:
“In Summer Camp” translated from Summer Camp Mein, by Sushmita Mazumdar
Mumma Mumma aaj summer camp mein
Ek nayi staff member aayi
Ms Maheen ke baal itne lambe
Ms Maheen ke ankh kitne sundar
Ms Maheen ke naak me heera
Kya Ms Maheen Indian hai?
Mere jaisi hai?
Hello Ms Maheen!
Ye aapke bare me kitna bolti hai!
Ms Maheen ke baal itne lambe
Ms Maheen ke ankh kitne sundar
Ms Maheen ke naak me heera
Kya Ms Maheen Indian hai?
Uske jaisi hai?
Arey chotisi Ananya!
Main to hun Desi
Bilkul tumhare jaisi
Sirf thodi si badi
Baal tumhare jaise, par thodi aur lambi
Ankhen tumhare jaisi kaali kaali
Mere naak me hira, tumhare kaano me baali
Main Arlington me janmi, school padi
Mummy Papa to hai Pakistaani
Aur mein thodi Pakistani aur thodi Umriki
Aur puri, Desi!
Bilkul tumhare jaisi!
——
Mumma Mumma in summer camp today
A new staff member came to play
Ms Maheen’s hair is so long
Ms Maheen’s eyes are so beautiful
Ms Maheen has a diamond in her nose
Is Ms Maheen Indian?
Is she like me?
Hello Ms Maheen!
She talks so much about you!
Ms Maheen’s hair is so long
Ms Maheen’s eyes are so beautiful
Ms Maheen wears a diamond in her nose
Is Ms Maheen Indian?
Is she like her?
Oh Little Ananya!
I am just Desi
Just like you—see?
Just a little bit bigger
Hair just like yours, but a little bit longer
Eyes like yours, black as black
Diamond in my nose, and gold rings in your ears
I’m born in Arlington, studied in school
Though Mummy and Papa are Pakistani
And I am a little Pakistani and a little American
But fully Desi!
Just like you—see?