By Ha-Meem HUSSAIN, France.
This story is about a sacrifice.
About a sacrifice all migrants make.
To loose their identity and get one fake*.
To uproot themselves, taking risk to get dry,
Out of water and eventually die.
The sacrifice to loose their family contacts,
To have no childhood friend left,
To settle abroad and cope with language barriers,
Switch their profession to a menial one,
Toil hard to meet ends of their months.
This story is about the hybrid status,
Be ambinational, but part of none.
I feel nostalgic about my feasts,
About the sound Urdu made,
About the games we used to play,
About my culture, about it's ways,
About the azan that filled the atmosphere.
I am both, and simultaneously one.
No comments:
Post a Comment