Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca (Diaspora Dual Identities)

Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca

Triptych

Exit - A Haibun

The exit from the old country, carefully planned like a dream cruise, not an impulse craving, was the fruit of a slow steady climb uphill. The noise, the grime, the smells, the color of the birth country both expected and unexpected, became travelling companions of sorts. The accompaniments of the old life could not be as easily shed as snakeskins. We carried them on the skin and under the skin as well. The dust, our most faithful companion, refused to be left behind. In the new country, unpacking the suitcases, it felt like my cup ‘runneth over’ with dust! It quickly made itself at home in the new land between the clothes and photo albums, without any need for cultural adjustment. On the new continent, it stubbornly resisted all modern contraptions for cleaning. In the new country, during the first winter, the silent snowflakes settled on lawns and sidewalks and the quiet was deafening. The world had turned white. Two beautiful two-week-old black kittens we named Salt and Pepper filled our world where the absence of family and friends made knots in the heart. Remarkably similar to dogs, wagging their tails to greet us as soon as they heard the doorbell. We were home!

Flavors of the past

Lodged firmly beneath the skin

The old country calls

 

To Stay Or To Go - A Haibun

Fresh off the boat, the first thing to strike, even before homesickness, is hunger. Arriving with children makes the desire for food more acute. MacDonalds is a familiar destination, since its introduction to the culinary scene in India had made it popular. Pictures of the happy children on the bench outside the restaurant remained a living memory. Here, proximity to the newly rented house meant convenience of access to fast food. At the counter, we placed the order with the salesgirl who happened to be from the home country. “To stay or to go,” she asked matter of factly. We looked at each other quite puzzled. How could we make the choice to go when we had just arrived? “To stay,” we responded. So the food was served to us on trays. “Parcel please” we requested in the politest tone of voice, and gesturing the action. “Packed you mean,” she said. ‘To go’ and ‘packed’ inserted itself into our vocabulary, like a new page on a Word document. Understanding cultural nuances are a part of that ‘home away from home’ feeling.

To stay or to go

Going was not an option

We had just arrived.

 

Indian-Jewish Or Jewish-Indian - A Haibun

Are we Indian-Jewish or Jewish-Indian, the burning question of my youth posed to my father. Reminiscent in its phraseology of the classic Shakespearean ‘To be or not to be,’ this one expressed a dilemma about life. My question was less philosophical and more of a question about identity. My father’s response to the question of my Jewish identity was an emphatic ‘both.’ So growing up, my identity was in my DNA, firm and fixed into my being. You can be two things or even many things at one time. It’s almost akin to multi-tasking.

Where did I come from?

Tales of legends and shipwrecks

Whispers of the past.

 

 

Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca has been a teacher of English and a Career Counselor, in an international school in India, and has taught French and Spanish in private schools in Canada. Her poems have been published in various journals and anthologies, including the four issues of the Yearbook of Indian Poetry in English and The Journal of Indian Literature in English by Sahitya Akademi. She is the author of three books “Family Sunday and other Poems, “Light of the Sabbath” and “Nissim Ezekiel Poet & Father. “She was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She also writes Nonfiction.

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Setu, April 2025