Tricky Lane Exit Reader Mode

The un-welcomed land I belong to.

We belong to the land that no longer welcome us.

Men with white hats stood tall
piercing the azure tapestry
witnessing what has gone by.
What is happening and what is lined up to occur next…
all in silence.

No, I don’t call it  fair!

The struggle, the resistance, the agitation
the loss and being labeled, “an outsider”
And finally, the banishment

The dead walked away leaving their heart
there soul adhered to the land they called their own
Migrating to…no where.

Where are we now? What are we now?

Once a teacher, a land owner, officer, farmer, a lawmaker. NOW?

A Refugee, that is  what we are referred to?
Refugee, an identity of struggle, of pain
Of humiliation.
The Consequences we faced for being ourself.

Cramped into the tiny bamboo huts
We survived many scorching summer,
We lived many chill winter,
We sheltered from several pouring monsoons.

But the hope of getting back to our homeland never ceased.

The life, the land, the air, the sun
All that we had to leave behind,
kept calling us.
The white capped tall men looked with
Longing eyes…
Azure tapestry above towered waiting
To hear us tramp back to our homes.
Oh! What a peaceful life it would be!

But the future had something else to unfold

“NO REFUGEES WILL BE TAKEN BACK”

The truth shattered milloins of hearts…
Mostly those who have been beating over four decades.

New land, new people, new culture, new life awaited

The new hearts sparked with hope…
But the old ones feared…
They feared another change,
another migration, yet another unknown struggle of an unknown life.

The weary hearts did as their fate guided them