I am willing
to break through
the shackles
of social conditioning,
and establish
my own identity.

But I am a dead bone,
without rights,
dignity and identity
in this land far away,
far away from my home.

I am a refugee
Yes, refugee I am.
Tears balance
the laughter of my life.

My life is but the
life of camphor,
I know not
when I shall wither away.

My life is but the
life of an unwatered plant
that gets parched
and dies prematurely.

I die here
a hundred times a day
and miss myself
thousand times a day.

They are unable
to recognize my silence,
and I am unable
to understand what they speak.

I miss the murmur
of my village brooks,
cow’s curd, eaten
with beaten rice flakes
and those glares
of my dog, kale (1).

I miss daal (2), bhat (3), tarkari (4),
sel (5), puri (6), chatamari (7)
sekuwa (8) of khasi (9)
and momo (10) of thulo khasi (11).

And every night before I sleep,
the narrow lanes of Kathmandu (12)
and those smiles of the Sauni’s (13)
beautiful daughter, dances before my eyes.

But yet I find solace here.
Nobody intimidates
nor do they offend me here.

They are kind,
they won’t prevent
the emergence of the pearl
from the oyster.

They let everybody
bloom and blossom.
They let every flower
spread its fragrance.

This is a peaceful place
I came here as a stranger,
but nobody asks me,
“Who are you,” and
“What are you doing?”

The only thing
I don’t find here
is my kale.
All dogs are khairey (14) here.

I yearn to sow
a rhododendron
in this foreign land,
far away from
misery, torture,
suffering and terror
from those oppressors
of the human soul.

I hope someday
they will accept me
as their own clan.
May be someday,
I too would see
in their khairey dog, my kale.

May be someday, perhaps.

Till then, I am just a refugee
Yes, refugee I am.
Tears balance
the laughter of my life.

Pale, dark and trodden I am
I have no blood to filter tears.

I am engraved by a dilemma.
I can neither move forward
nor take a single step backward.

This is the bitter truth of being a refugee.

Sometimes, I ask myself, “Why I am here?”

May be to die peacefully.

Yes, O Lord!

I want to live peacefully!
Peaceful life is our birthright.


Copyright 2007 Bhuwan Thapaliya



Notes:

1) Kale: Black.
2) Daal: Lentil
3) Bhat: Cooked rice
4) Tarkari: Vegetable
5) Sel: Ring shaped stuff made from mixture of Flour and Sugar.
6) Puri: Flat pancake
7) Chatamari: Famous Newari Food
8) Sekuwa: Nepalese style barbecue
9) Khasi: Goat
10) Momo: Dumpling
11) Thulo Khasi: A common slang for Buffalo
12) Kathmandu: Capital city of Nepal
13) Sauni : A female shopkeeper
14) Khairey: Brownish





Pic Source: http://www.nationalgeographic.com/xpeditions/activities/images/refugee.jpg