Odyssey of a Refugee by Rekha Jad
My first reaction on receiving this slender book was that of regret, thinking it a photo book meant for kids with beautiful watercolor illustrations by Dan William. But my unflinching belief in the writing skills of the author forced me to go through the slim poem book. Believe me, any prodigious volume of this book would not have left the impact so strong as these few lines could. It left an indelible impression on my heart and mind.
It is a deeply moving, heart- wrenching letter from a father to his little son, while they are fleeing from war-torn country to seek a refuge elsewhere. It is a pithy, meaningful Odyssey of refugees which ravages the mind and torments the heart.it leaves you rigid and choked.
The poem is inspired by the story of Alan Kurdi, the three-year-old Syrian refugees who drowned in the Mediterranean Sea while fleeing from war-torn Turkey in a small boat which capsized and
boy's body was spotted on the shore. It is, in fact, a befitting tribute to countless refugees who have died at sea while fleeing away from war and persecution.
In 2015, pictures of little Adam lying lifeless offshore went viral and it haunted me for many days but the books leaves an unforgettable mark.
The father recalls his childhood memories, all trivial things that would delight him, the market, the farm house.He misses the sight, sound, and smell of his bygone days which his son is deprived of ,who has rather witnessed only spitting bombs and blood.The helplessness of father in protecting his son is beautifully portrayed, and he clings to the power of praying and banks on limitless belief in the Clement God. The book I vouch can rouse a flurry of sentiments in a cold fish too.
This little book relates somewhat to my own people, Kashmiri Hindus who were forced to flee from their homes in the wee hours to save their lives and honour.They we're persecuted,hacked off to death and made refugees in their own country.
This exodus from their homeland brought them a lot of physical pain and mental agony. For a long time they were hostage to hope of returning back some day which unfortunately has not dawned so far.
The torment and lament endured by a displaced person is unfathomable.Treated as uninvited and unwelcome intruders and many a times asked to take their misfortunes elsewhere did not deter them to eek out a dignified living for their families.They abjured their lofty houses which too turned into a heap of smoldering rubble and dwelled in make shift tents.Their beleaguered selves had to pay an emotional and physical cost.Gusty winds of winters gnawing at their bones, smothering muggy heat of summers stifling them to brutal death.Older ones lost their grip on sanity and were often found raving and blabbering about their lives in Kashmir.
But clinging to hope and praying to God, they embraced the life in exile with grace, charm and dignity.
Life of a refugee wavers between hope and despair, trying to prove themselves stronger than their misfortunes, resolutely enduring so much pain with a devastated heart breeding all sorts of emotions like sorrow, fear, insecurity, disconcert, rage, shame, and despair but all these are muzzled and the limitless belief in God and prayers comforts the turmoil of the soul.
I completely emphathise with the painful longing, betrayal , lingering sadness and nostalgia of a migrant. My family moved from POK during partition and my grandmother would endlessly talk about the scenic beauty, the frolicking, frothy and often fuming waters of the mountain stream,the light pink bloom of the almondtalmond and the juicy apricots.S couldn't accept the harsh summer of boring plains.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful writing, Rekha. I loved reading as usual.
Almond trees
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