Minority

Minority- Imtiaz Dharker

I was born a foreigner.

I carried on from there

to become a foreigner everywhere

I went, even in the place

planted with my relatives,

six-foot tubers sprouting roots,

their fingers and faces pushing up

new shoots of maize and sugar cane.

All kinds of places and groups

of people who have an admirable

history would, almost certainly,

distance themselves from me.

I don’t fit,

like a clumsily translated poem;

like food cooked in milk of coconut

where you expected  Gheeor cream,

the unexpected aftertaste

of cardamom or neem .

There’s always a point that where

the language flips

into an unfamiliar taste;

where words tumble over

a cunning tripwire on the tongue;

were the frame slips,

the reception of an image

not quite tuned, ghost-outlined,

that signals, in their midst,

an alien.

And so I scratch, scratch

through the night, at this

growing scab on black and white.

Everyone has the right

to infiltrate a piece of paper.

A page doesn’t fight back.

And, who knows, these lines

may scratch their way

into your head –

through all the chatter of community,

family, clattering spoons,

children being fed –

immigrate into your bed,

squat in your home,

and in a corner, eat your bread,

until, one day, you meet

the stranger sliding down your street,

realise you know the face

simplified to bone,

look into its outcast eyes

and recognise it as your own.

About Poet

Imtiaz Dharker’s poetry often deals with themes of identity, separation and home, reflecting the experiences of her own life. Born in Pakistan, she was moved to Scotland when she was very young and brought up in Glasgow. She currently lives between India, London and Wales. She describes herself as a ‘Scottish Muslim Calvinist’.

Summary.

The opening line of the poem introduces its theme of separation and otherness. The speaker repeats the word ‘foreigner’, emphasizing their isolation from their own family. They are certain that ‘All kinds of places and groups’ ‘distance themselves’ from them.Notice how different the similes in the third and fourth stanzas seem. The first  ‘like a clumsily-translated poem’ appeals to the intellect, whereas the second  ‘like food cooked in milk of coconut’ – adds a sensual experience of foreignness. Notice also the isolation of the third stanza and the separation created between these two similes.

We are presented with images connected with the mouth, as if the process of eating and speaking becomes interchangeable for the speaker. As well as ‘the unexpected aftertaste/of cardamom or neem’, the speaker writes how, ‘language flips/into an unfamiliar taste’. What does this suggest about identity and culture?

Later the speaker seems to find an internal reconciliation in writing. The assonance of ‘scratch’, ‘chatter’ and ‘clattering’ builds up a momentum that reflects the speaker’s move away from otherness to a final acceptance. Through the use of direct address, the final stanza invites the reader to share in the experience of being the ‘outcast’.