Year Three, A very random day in May
My Mallu American Girl Doll
I want an American Girl doll
Who grew up learning two languages
Her immigrant parents couldn't afford cable
Grew up with PBS Kids and Qubo
Stayed up late watching Mohanlal movies
Her parents translating the words
A cultural identity crisis in her teens
When she was made fun of for listening to A.R. Rahman
When her English was called “good enough for a brown girl”
Angry when her name was called "too complicated"
When she had to tuck her accent between her teeth and tongue
From slipping when she emphasized the last syllable her in name
The only Desi person in her college poetry class
Writing poems in Malayalam about how she missed
The sounds of her home
I want an American Girl doll
Who craves masala dosas and samosas
After going to college for three months
Keeps Maggi noodles in her snack drawer
Along with spicy fried peanuts and Kerala mixture
Makes masala chai at midnight for calming finals week nerves
Convinced her roommate to try the biryani
At the Indian restaurant that just opened in town
Talks about how she wants to wear a saree for her wedding
Who won't stop talking when she convinced her white friend
To finally watch a Shah Rukh Khan movie from the ‘90s
Translating every last word even with the subtitles on
I want an American Girl doll
Who is brave enough to go into that grocery store
Where the cashiers give every brown person
A certain glare to scare the melanin off their skin
Called names like “alien”, "exotic", "wild"
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Whose hair has been called "unruly" and "untamed"
Just like her multilingual tongue
Writes out little Malayalam words on post-it notes
Her heart carries the language of her people
Whose brown eyes stare back at her in the mirror
Remembering how she is worthy
Hair and eyes and skin and all of her
I want an American Girl doll
Who is just like me
How She Learned to Talk
Clean words washed with soap
Suds rinse the melanin out
Her mother tongue left at home
Taking her new letters to school
The shiny ones her teacher gave her
Leaving her Malayalam brain at home
Warming her throat
For new letters to absorb
She sings on to the post
At the edge of the sidewalk
For no one to hear her
Do
Ti
La
So
Fa
Mi
Re
Do
The shiny new alphabet glows
She swallows the tension in her jaw
Singing the song to remember the letters
Teacher gives her a blue lollipop
Changing the color of her tongue
Amma gives her red candy at home
After correct Malayalam sentences
She hopes to be purple one day
The bell rings for lunch
Ham and cheese sandwich
Bag of chips and an apple
Just like all the other kids
She would rather have idiyappam
With chicken curry and a fried sweet plantain If she brings “brown food”
The other kids steal it from her
Only to throw it away
Home food gone to waste
While still hungry from breakfast
After lunch is recess
Run and play and wait
For parents to come back
No one wants to play with the brown girl
Easier to sit under the tree
Than to be shoved into pavement
Warming her throat
For old letters to absorb
She sings to the tree
At the edge of the playground
For no one to hear her
Sa
Ni
Tha
Pa
Ma
Ga
Ri
Sa
Remembering her melanin
To coat her throat before going home
Left at school for her other tongue
Taking the old letters home
The muted ones her parents gave her
Leaving her English tongue at school
S. Kavi is a South Indian American poet, writer, and artist from Texas. Her work has been nominated for the Best of the Net anthology and appears in antonym, Culinary Origami, Metachrosis Literary, and elsewhere.