My Tibetanness

Thirty-nine years in exile.
Yet no nation supports us.
Not a single bloody nation!

We are refugees here.
People of a lost country.
Citizen to no nation.

Tibetans: the world’s sympathy stock.
Serene monks and bubbly traditionalists;
one lakh and several thousand odd,
nicely mixed, steeped
in various assimilating cultural hegemonies.

At every check-post and office,
I am an “Indian-Tibetan”.
My Registration Certificate,
I renew every year, with a salaam.
A foreigner born in India.

I am more of an Indian.
Except for my Chinky Tibetan face.
“Nepali?” “Thai?” “Japanese?”
“Chinese?” “Naga?” “Manipuri?”
but never the question — “Tibetan?”

I am Tibetan.
But I am not from Tibet.
Never been there.
Yet I dream
of dying there.

8 thoughts on “My Tibetanness”

  1. I like this poem it is very nice and peaceful.when I read this poem I taught of helping Refugees in my country,I really like this poem

  2. Your poem is an inspiration tsundue la. I hope you write more poems on our issue and display it on the global stage. I am big fan of yours and support your dream.

  3. That’s really touching … Born from ones heart…..out of the pain of existence…

Leave a comment

Your comment will appear publicly here. If you wish to send a private message to Tsundue directly, please use the contact form.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Tenzin Tsundue writes, speaks, and acts for a Free Tibet