Mother Tongue Blues
A human, a woman, 
a netizen of India, 
 A native axomiya 
-a goriya or 'miya', 
a deshi, 
 jolha or a baganiya
 I am all in 
flesh and blood one
 yet i deeply crib 
when one asks--- 
what is my 
mother tongue? 
I blast out at
the computer operator
 at the Nrc 
hearing centre 
who is rude to my 
septagenerian father
 and uncle
 and repeats--- 
what is our 
mother tongue? 
He has never
 heard of the 
term 'Axomiya Mosolman'. 
I was enraged, 
but he was just 
doing his job, 
yet why i crib 
when one asks--- 
What is my 
mother tongue? 
The lockdown 
did no better
Those who couldn't 
spit on the streets
Spat venom on
 their screens 
Some sane, 
some insane
 and some obscene
Yet all in flesh 
and blood one
And still I crib 
when one asks---
What is my 
mother tongue?                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    