Author Archives: parabjot singh

punjabi, eh! or depends where you live!

first destination -1992
punjab to womb to vgh to surrey
kuri -the girl
the new generation
punjabi taa sikkh jaugee
first generation canadian
an offspring delivered in a foreign land
first to be  a canadian citizen by birth

elementary school, surrey
not convent school, punjab
no senior secondary, india
from elementary to high school to kpu
advisor: “yes, you can take second language courses here
like french
while advisor thinks of bilingualism
excellent second language skills

hit the registration button
enter the land of fiver rivers
identity crisis
tight limit
boxes filled with pupils
united by colour
by colours amongst colours
as instructors break the wall

who am i? why take this elective?
my first language is english!
did i have to put myself through this mess?
do I have any background knowledge?
punjabi is not the official language of canada
I must start from scratch

f*** examinations, finals already! examinations
parents’ fault for coming here
english everyday
likhna for exams
rishthidaar judge your punjabi
to gossip around about you
parents and grandparents chant
punjabi bolo, punjabi likho, punjabi parho

multilingualism in public sector
do you know second language?
how about punjabi?
the banks hire “your age”

hesitation
punjabi, eh!
punjabi

*kuri: girl
*punjabi taa sikkh jaugee: she’ll learn Punjabi
*likhna: to write
*rishthidaar: relatives
*punjabi bolo, punjabi likho, punjabi parho: speak, write and read Punjabi
 

on top of the cedar tree, the hugest star
but the rest of the tree had threadbare decorations
however, the sparkling, bristling, bustling, star
shone, it glows upon the brow of the lion’s roar
and fainted on the glossy door.
Ponderosa is a freezer,
because of our chilly class.
foolish Fred donned a toque +scarf,
playing cars with my nephews on the floor of their house
in the kitchen?
“I am slurping, and burping,”
gurgled the toad.
the most amicable amphibian.
what the heck did I just do?
POST IT ON THE BLOG.

Assignment 2 (Parabjot K. Singh)

charcoal night
hues of red
the voices meet
on Memorial Road
droplets of rainwater
cling, on jet-black
strands of wind-blown hair
synchronizing, tweeting
voices like a foghorn,
travel through autumn air
walking stance in poetic mode
voices break, flow on Memorial Road
silent benches,
damp maples,
prepare to shut their eyes
CONNECT eye to eye
but STRUGGLE to say good-bye
crisscossed pathways
met, halfway
HOLD
the current of this moment
like a ballpoint pen
between tip and thumb
electric free-spirits
attached, yet apart
Memorialize bodies
Unmemorialized souls
on Memorial Road.

I stand beneath your mother,

the SUN.

You

burn and boil

until I tan.

Why so much silent anger?

north and south

east and west

you release your particles.

Yet

I suffer, suffer, suffer

until I sprint away

from your poisonous effects.