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With the indefinite ban on Syrian refugees in the United States, and a reduction in the number of refugees that can enter the United States, the hopes of thousands of innocent refugees to lead peaceful lives have come down crashing.
At a time when ‘humanity’ has turned out to be just a word in the dictionary, it is disheartening to know that the greatest enemy of humankind is humankind itself. This poem is dedicated to the Syrian infant refugee Alan Kurdi who was found lying face-down on a beach near the Turkish resort of Bodrum in September 2015.
A conversation of a three year old from heaven, with his beloved mother
Refugee in my own world,
Oh mama, the stars look beautiful here,
And they rock me on the moon.
Don’t you cry, don’t you wail,
I am happy as ever up here.
Oh mama, I do miss your lullabies,
Those sweet dream kisses,
Those lifts and hugs I miss too,
Those tender pats on my cold butt.
Oh mama, the water was very cold,
And the night was dreadful,
But as long as I held your hands,
I felt I would not leave you.
Oh mama, hardly could I breathe,
When I dove beneath the ocean,
The last hug you gave me,
Was so tight and painful.
Oh mama, under the deep ocean,
I met two sweet fairies;
The ones who carried me like a feather,
“So delicate, so sweet,” they uttered.
Oh mama, then they took me up,
Over and above our tiny boat.
I shouted out loud to papa and you,
But you were in deep sleep in the ocean.
Oh mama, am happy up here,
Just listening to the blue ocean sing
As beautifully as you do.
It does not swallow babies,
But makes them float and fly.
Oh mama, do they still fight over silly reasons
And send people away from their beloved homes?
Does the ocean still devour children
And take them away from their mommies?
Do mommies still cry aloud
Seeing blood on their children
And people still wait
To climb on a boat and reach nowhere?
Let’s make this our home,
So sweet, so peaceful
With you and me and
Your sweet dream kisses
Those tender pats on my cold butt….
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Top image sourced from The White House website, open-source image
An explorer and seeker of all sorts, who relishes the art of weaving magic through
The pathos has come out aptly in your lines.
Never felt so helpless ever…
Beautiful. .. brought tears to my eyes
Wish these lines could also move those sordid hearts!! (if at all they have one) 🙁
Refugee Ke Bacche
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