April 22, 2025

Narikhol by Anonymous

They called me ‘Coconut’—but my roots ran deeper than they knew.

All these traces of culture

Desperately shoved down

Yet my mother tongue

Is nowhere to be found


Still she bites at my lips

Violently stabs at my heart

“Coconut Coconut”

Give up the farce


But what is so white?

About my art

Of loving my family

No matter how far


Rivers flow, over those we’ve lost

And in my hazy emotion

I’m back where I belong


The heart of my motherland

Breaking mine so I grieve

“Coconut Coconut”

Did the motherland you ever leave?


In the cold of the west

Trying to freeze my warm heart

Through a black call she whispers

“Coconut Coconut”

Come back to my path


I confess to her and no longer hide

Albeit not through words

But gasps and cries

“Coconut Coconut”

The nickname lies


So perhaps my mother

Can find her translation

In the way my tears

Are steadily cascading


Look down, the tears fell

For your blood and your flesh

Planting like roots in the ground


On the cold British soil

My beloved Sylheti is found


- “Coconut Coconut”



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