But sometimes your tongue is so laden with all the ways you can phrase a sentence that you end up swollen and heavy-jowled, and all that comes from your lips are disjointed words interjected with hesitation and insecurity. You sit down, red, and pretend you aren't being stared at by people who're wondering what the hell you're doing there; you pretend you aren't pretending those people are staring at you because it's much easier to displace the responsibility of criticism than admit you hate some aspect of your identity.
I don't like admitting to it but I was frankly far more imbued in the Western than I was in the local growing up in Pakistan. American cartoons, British books, English music - hell, even Japanese media - were a staple of my early life far more so than my own culture or the immediacy … Continue reading Shame and retrospect
I don't think I have ever been more aware or conscious of my accent than in the United States. Frankly, I didn't think I had that much of an accent until I got here and started getting complimented on it. I always thought I had a general American accent with a slight Pakistani twang to … Continue reading “I swear this isn’t an accent!”: It totally is.