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Left Out


Left Out
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Bilingual. That’s me. I’m actually multilingual. I can fluently speak three languages and understand another two. But that’s not the point. But I’m only going to talk about the two that are a major part of my identity: those that I speak perfectly.. or those I try to speak.
As a child, I was a little bit slow. I had difficulties learning language. I didn't speak my first word until I was two years old: almost one and a half years later than any other kid. Because of this, I was forced to learn English before my mother tongue, my birthright because of the former’s language being easier to enunciate. Since children are often able to cope with only a single language at a time, I continued learning English up to the stage when I was adjudged old enough to begin learning a second language.
However, the time before this was difficult. I was often scorned, for lack of a milder word, by people around me, due to my inability to speak my mother tongue. Although they could speak and understand English with proficiency, they would hardly deign to translate or to speak to me in English. Often they would ignore me or simply leave when I arrived. Most of the children were so. Although the adults were not so blatant in their mannerisms, they too held about the same amount of contempt for me. This resulted in me despising my surroundings whenever our family went to India. I ended up staying at home all the time, intimidated by the outside world.


The fact that I was unable to speak my own language left me feeling disjunct from the others of my age, an oddity. Pitiful though I sound, my childhood may have sounded bad, but it was for only a short time. Before long, I was able to learn my own mother tongue. I was an oddity no more. People would stop to listen when I spoke and would speak with me when I was there. I was finally at peace with both halves of my identity. I was no oddity. 

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