If you'll listen, I'd like to tell you all about my life
At barely sixteen, I left my homeland
Crossed the seas for Dover's chalky cliffs
Strathnaver docked in cascading rain
With tearful eyes, my mind went back to India
National Railways employed my father
Mother ran the house
The job moved bases almost yearly
She found friends, and an ayah for the babe
I lived nine months of the year at school
My second family, that's how it was in India
We were known as Anglo-Indians
European Asian blood
Dark or light skinned, and our language
A panchpuran of Hindi / English words
Independence forced us all to leave
Farewell to loved ones left behind in India
In New Brighton we lodged with family
Sleeping in one room
Mum had never boiled a kettle
Never cleaned a floor or cooked our food
It was months before dad found a job
Experience counts for nothing from India
I hated England and missed Darjeeling
I cried every day
My little sister lost all her Hindi
She became our family's foreign child
And the rations here were strict and small
I pined for burfi and the taste of India
Well fifty years how fast they travel
Yet our culture remains
Friends from home live here in London
We meet often, call them every day
But the young ones they are English now
Shaped by your green hills and motorways
Still we share with them our roots in India