Tag: University of Augsburg

Once, on a dark snowy day in a strange land, 
I metamorphosed to an air plant.
First, I lost my tongue; then I lost my limbs;
My brown trunk swirled into itself. 
A crusty mossy green veneer over my fern-like body.
I lay still, a green cocoon– I am going back.


  This chip based plastic card is my DNA barcode.
  It lets the rootless ausländer reside in this land, 
  to breathe it's AQI certified perfect-for-a walk air
  for these exact contractual work years. 
  It keeps me safe -- a new sample specimen,
  well preserved in a laboratory bell jar. 
  A permit -- a hermit immersed in nirvana liquid.
  I gaze outside through the transparent glass -- 
  everything magnified, everything distorted.
  An enticing pool of sunlight at the far end of the lab,
  beyond the windows, there are patches of green.
  I look for familiar faces, long lost cousins and neighbours --
  Is that the rabbit-ear-leafed* herb?
  (the long wanderings on monsoon mornings to cure the little one’s cough)
  the small-flowery-leafed* one?
  (the herbal decoction for feverish nights) 
  the crawl-on-the-ground-palm* and down-the-stream-gooseberry*?
  (a folk song, a ritual, the cure for yellow-fever)
  The patches of green remained as aloof as they were.
  They denied my identification procedure – 
  “Wir bist nicht deine ‘name-place-animal-thing’,
   we are google lens-approved rational scientific botanic beings,
   we were featured in Systema Naturae and
   we are alien to your wobble-gobble”.
	
I swayed away and stared at the supermarket herbs section for hours.
Familiar fragrances -- dried and powdered and renamed.
And the authentic all-rounder -- “Indische Curry-Englisch style”
Black pepper from my backyard would disown me for this affair.
I reside, breathe in and breathe out the AQI verified air.
I reside, observe and wait, in this permitted residence of mine.
To live -- to live and thrive one should go back or grow roots.
(And then, herbs are no longer a supermarket section
they are an image of your soul in green,
a fibrous embrace that warms your blood.)

*Literal translations of medicinal herbs from author’s mother tongue