How to be a good immigrant

source

Firstly mind your own business.
Do not crowd the restaurants
Or the bus stops or the trains.
Stay invisible.
Forget your mother tongue.
Every time you open your mouth
Speak in the language of your new homeland.
Learn the accent. Fake it.
Why are you here if you can’t fit in?
When they assume you are a cleaner
Or a waiter or a taxi driver
Do not tell them you have a medical degree.
At the cinema when they hand you their stub
Do not tell them you aren’t the usher.
Be polite. Honest mistake, you see.
What else can brown people be?
Other than the T-word.
Shh, don’t say it.
Spread your legs and stand still.
Let them touch you. Let them search you.
Don’t carry a bag if you don’t want a fuss.
What is in this bottle, sir?
Drink it.
You can be Indian or Paki,
Libyan, Syrian or Iraqi
But in their paint by numbers book,
You are all labelled zero.
So laugh at the stereotypes on television,
Joke about snake charmers and burqas and call centers,
Ignore the casual, matter-of-fact racism
And believe the silent masses are
Supposedly on your side. Hope it.
Let it sing you a lullaby.
And when they come for you in your home,
Punch you in the gut and put a
Knife to your throat,
Wonder why the neighbour you greet
In the lift every morning doesn’t hear your cries
Above the din of his Netflix.
Do not be afraid.
If you are lucky you might even become
A briefly indignant hashtag on Twitter
As they drag you away.
Your two eighty characters of fame.