The Oceans Within Us

Ananya Vinay
2 min readSep 13, 2021

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Photo by Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash

Sometimes I wonder about the price we pay

For moving across an ocean

For being from both worlds and not fitting in either one

Simultaneously looking at pop songs and celebrating Onam

Manifested differences of existence that are a special hue

Not black or white but gray

But it’s hard to know what shade of gray to be

Often, it’s easily to float through life without thinking

About the differences and the cultures that mix in my mind

But it hits me hard when I visit and call relatives

And the words in my mind blur when I force them out of my mouth

No words for what I want to say

Instead resorting to “Enda visesham” and conversation about food

Instead speaking a creole of Malayalam where English fills in

When the words won’t come

Which is more often than I expect

Sounding like a stuttered broken melody where the tune is slightly off

Yet there’s a strange beauty in this speech

That’s not perfect but just good enough to say what needs to be said

Which I often remind myself that I’m enough of both sides

Even if I don’t speak Malayalam like a buzzing bee, a seamless melody

Yet the wires of family tend to fray with distance

To the point where found family feels more comfortable than blood

And I forget the shifting of time in India

Instead an image frozen in one place from the last visit

And the changes surprise me when they shouldn’t

Like goats I petted one visit

Yet two years later, surprise at the fact that they were sold

And the wear and tear of time continues to hit me

Like an echo of things and people that used to be, filling the air with memories

And are now mere ghosts from the past

Of cheap, blue bangles that stained my wrists with ink and no longer do

Time that now fills with shopping and visits to salons

But also visions of a simpler life- nowhere to run but there

But to a pool- no smooth-tiled, teal water

Instead dark turquoise from pure rain and sharp rocks stabbing one’s feet like splinters

And it’s somehow more real, less pretense of civility

But a return to nature that is not manipulated but respected

That continues to vanish with every journey on a plane

It’s the home I didn’t know I needed

Yet it’s there at any instant

At least in my head

And continues to be without even looking

I don’t often realize

That I have two homes

Even if I don’t exactly fit in either

They are there at my beck and call

To remind me to be proud of who I am and have every day

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