I’m from diving in the moist soil that is my backyard,

From footballs and large packets of math.

I’m from the steep, largely scaled walls of red brick, 

The aroma of freshly cooked chicken curry swirling throughout the house.

I’m from the Jasmine plant wrapping the fence,

The palm tree who is still a baby,

The oak tree whose long grown limbs I remember as if they were my own.

I’m from Hindu festivals and morals, 

From Mom and Dad.

I’m from Friday movie nights and Chipotle, 

And from large shopping malls. 

I’m from keep this away from your eye and hold this properly,

And various precautions. 

I’m from Irving, Texas and India,

Tex-Mex and Biryani.

From biking miles to get to school,

Told to me by my father.

Albums, filled with treasures of the past,

Located on a sturdy, lasting bookshelf.