Song 23 : Refugees (Question 5)

The inferno of rage blazing in your chest, ravaging every sense of humanity left. Do you know how it feels like? The pain and anguish searing across every nerve in your system, lightened only by the desire to seek revenge. Do you know how it feels like? When life is drained of all its life with nothing left but the sole purpose to torment the ones who tormented you. Do you know how it feels like?

I know.

The whistling of the wind grew louder, as the gales scooped up a cloud of dirt towards my face. I was left coughing unbearably like an old hag as my hands flailed instinctively before my astonished face.

Once again, I was snapped out of my daydream. I rubbed the sides of my eyes gently, as the vision of a dense forest appeared before me.

At this point, you may be asking, “Why would a kid like me, be taking an afternoon nap in the middle of a tropical rainforest?”

The answer is simple. I have no home. The same goes to the rest of my family and friends.

Well, we once did in the land called Nusantara – the country where everyone always had a blissful smile carved on their faces. The country that was always bathed in the tender golden rays of the sun and vibrant flowers bloomed gracefully below, forming a breath-taking carpet on the earthian floor beneath. The country that bore the most delicious fruit in the world, that gushes down your throat with a sweet and warm sensation, as you sink your teeth in it. The country that was the closest place in the world to the mythical kingdom of Shambhala.

But that was once upon a time ago. Then, Nusantara was disdainfully robbed of its beauty when the avaricious leaders of Sangsara arrived with their metal birds and fearsome tanks, devouring it ravenously, for their own selfish sake and announced it their own. In just days, the country that was diligently built by its people was reduced to a wasteland of mere ashes.

Stripped of our rights to live, we were compelled to leave our homes and were banished to the forests.

Now, nothing is left for us. No home, no food, and no hope. Nothing. The word ‘Nusantarans’ gradually faded, only to be replaced with the term ‘refugees’, whereas the fallen land vanished completely from the world map.

Destiny. Quaint yet curious destiny, like spindles of fate, weaved by an unknown force to produce eye-catching tapestries, depicting tales of victory of great heroes and empires. Yet again, what happens to deformed artworks of losers like us?

Abandoned and forgotten. Nobody cares about our mere existence. Why should they? They are too engrossed and preoccupied with their materialistic thoughts. Why should they notice redundant minor characters like us, lamenting and begging for mercy behind the stage, when they are so busy performing major scenes?

A drop of tear rolled down my cheeks, lubricating my epidermis with a warm feeling.

War and violence. Life is nothing but a sick joke. Jokes meant to ridicule folly and frail creatures like us, to entertain the great and mighty beasts.

Maybe, just maybe, all of that will change. Who knows? Maybe one day, the Fates will finally have pity on us. Maybe one day, the people of Sangsara will finally realise their flaw. Maybe one day, a kind and magnanimous Deva will descend from the heavens above and grab us out of this torture chamber.

How naïve. Why dream of such absurd nonsense when you obviously know it will never come true? Why waste your time? Or is it just the human thing to do? To dream no matter how impossible it seems?

The massive sun began to dissolve behind the lofty peak of the mountains. Even the sun is deserting us. Are we really that loathsome and repugnant? If so, why us?

I bit my lips, outraged and dissatisfied. A feeling as bitter as bile flooded me. My left arm attempted a vain endeavor to hurl the earth that I had held so tightly till now, at the gargantuan ruby orb, while the index finger of my other hand stabbed at it.

“This is your entire fault!” I gave a harpy’s screech at the inanimate object, “Why can’t you shine upon us? Why let us live in shadows of misery?”

Maybe it seems rather stupid, blaming the innocent sun but, when you are down and dejected, it just feels so good to put the blame on someone or something. Never do we realise that when we start pointing a finger at others, we are actually pointing three at ourselves.

“If you despise us so much, why don’t you just disappear?” I yelled at the top of my voice as those words escaped my larynx like a jet.

“Is it really the sun’s fault? It does provide us with light and warmth, you know,” whispered a timid voice behind me.

I turned my face to glare, just to discover a girl of a few years younger than me, standing weakly and wearing a solemn mask. It was Li Hwa.

“You stupid fool! What do you know? If its not, then whose? Who made our life such a pain?” Tears rolled down my face before I even know it.

She raised her gaze and squeaked, “We are always given choices in life. The choice to do what’s right or what’s not. The choice to either look forward to the future or to sulk over the past. The choice to look at things optimistically or pessimistically.”

“Choices my foot!” I retorted offensively, “We were born to suffer! And what’s with optimism? Can it give us food? Can it give us respect? Can it make death relinquish Mum and Dad from its grip?”

She trudged a few steps backward and fell silent.

We never spoke again since then.

Somehow, it feels so good to snap at someone when we are upset, but do we consider their feelings? Wouldn’t they be upset as well? Wouldn’t they snap at others too? Wouldn’t it return to us one day? Wouldn’t it be a vicious cycle?

Days passed like the beat of my heart. Yet, no amendments were made to our relationship.

People say we should apologise when we are wrong. Sorry. Such a simple word. Still, there is always an unbreakable barrier between us, blocking our apology from getting out of our throat. Why? Egoism? Or rather, stupid pride?

The blast shook the atmosphere accompanied by a series of ear-splitting screams. All hell has broken loose.

Refugees were shooting off in various directions, running for their lives, as the Imperial Army of Sangsara gave chase with their weapons of mass destruction.

Apparently, they were given orders to wipe out the remaining Nusantarans. They have taken everything – our home, our country, our family and friends. What more can they steal from us? Don’t they have feelings too? Don’t they know how we feel? Or are they just thoughtless golems and senseless myrmidons?

People were everywhere in view, some lying motionlessly and some gasping for their last breath. My eyes scanned the area for my sister as my legs sped at increasing speed.

Then I saw her. Li Hwa’s left eye, studded on her crumpled features, was badly ruptured. She was crawling feebly on the sandy floor due to her broken legs and she was soaked in crimson droplets. Yet, she managed a weak smile as her eyes met mine, despite her condition.

Then, another blast was heard. She completely vanished amidst the maelstrom of dust surrounding her. Every part of her that I had hurt with my words was blown to smithereens by the grenade, tossed by the Sangsarans as I was only capable of watching helplessly in agony.

When you are in the wrong, you should say you’re sorry at once. Sometimes, you never know whether you will see the person you have offended again. Maybe your apologies will never be heard.

A mixed feeling of rage, disgust and sorrow welled up in me. My eyes swelled with fury as I could feel my heart imploding into a million pieces.

A bereaved and incensed wail escaped my lips, as I lunged forward with all my strength, ready to strike one of those heartless Sangsarans. Suddenly, my steps came to a halt as a loud bang hit my eardrums.

Many reckon that optimism gives you a false illusion to conceal the dreadful truth. But, no matter how true or false it is, it is enough to provide us with a light of hope, to strengthen our will to face the ever-changing course of destiny.

I feel myself falling backwards, as a sharp pain pierced my chest and the pandemonium went on without me.

Why do we dream when we know that they won’t come true? Or how sure are we that they wouldn’t come true? How about the dream to soar above the wide open azure sky? If it wasn’t for that dream, how would the aeroplane come about? Dreams are bridges to the future. We should never underestimate the strength of dreams because no matter how impossible it may seem, there is no doubt that it is still possible.

There I was, lying on my back and facing the vast sapphire sky. I could hear muffled cries and tremors of the stampede crawling up my spine. I could feel a warm liquid oozing profusely out from my wound. Am I dying? Somehow, it felt like everything didn’t matter anymore.

Injustice and grief. Life may seem like a sick joke that we guffaw to the world when the joke is on others and mourn to ourselves when it is on us. But, if we learn to laugh when the joke is targeted on us and cry when it is aimed at others, then we will be the ones laughing at life till the very end.

My vision started to smear as an endless tunnel of light flashed across me, so bright that it was almost blinding me. I could feel myself floating so lightly and moving towards the shimmering lights ahead.

Hatred, prejudice and wrath. Why are we treating our fellow brothers and sisters like that? Aren’t we all the same?

We’re all refugees. Each and everyone of use. We were all born to a land of innocence and freedom. However, as time matured, we were driven away from it by feelings of envy, gluttony, lust and abhorrence that began to stir a war in our souls.

Still, a small part of us yearns to return to the land we once belonged to. Some found it. Some, still searching.

I could see the light getting brighter and brighter as I was drawn closer and closer to the end of the tunnel. Voices that I recognised and never knew I would listen to again, greeted me with sheer delight. Right now, I know that my journey has ended. I have found the land of eternal happiness and paradise – Nirvana.

What am I? A refugee. Who am I? A Refugee who has finally found refuge.

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This is my 2008 commonwealth essay entitled Refugees. If you are also a participant, would you mind posting yours too? thanks!