August....Partition...Heroshima...Independance

When I say 'Hiroshima;,
Will people gently respond 'Ah Hiroshima'?
When I say 'Hiroshima,
I hear 'Pearl Harbor.'
When I say 'Hiroshima,
I hear 'Chinese Nanking Massacre.'

"What is she trying to say?",I asked the Japanese lady sitting next to me in an event remembering Hiroshima with some poetry recitals, and she replied ,"that was another partition happened somewhere in the far far east in the same month of august, the only difference is you people celebrate on the death of 500,000 people and millions de-homed and we drop a tear every august in remembrance of all the same number of stories that died,and this poem is describing the views from both sides."

Somehow I was taken aback by the way she compared the nuclear holocaust with the independence of my country.

Long after that on our way back and still disturbed by the comparison of these two isolated august incidents by that Japanese, i asked Ertyaas,"how can she compare these, I love my country and i celebrate for that freedom every august, what's wrong with that" .

She replied, "you need to clear out first if you celebrate the freedom of your country from the Britishers or you celebrate the idea of partition leading up to making of the country that you call your country, or is it something else".

"It was both", I said and continued" but above all i love my land, where I grew up, where most of my friends and family live, where most of my memories are made are and that's what i celebrate"

"Well if it is that, than you could have celebrated anywhere, your land was not created from scratch, it was always there.... but imagine you are living in that land for years and because of some external factors(good or bad), you are forced to leave your home, your associations, your memories, the same land that you love the most, how will you feel...its really difficult to be objective here isn't it. The same happened in Hiroshima.That poet Sadako Kurihara (who was one of the Hiroshima survivor) was referring not just the sadness of Hiroshima survivors but also the views of the the pearl harbor survivors, or the Chinese massacre survivors done by the Japanese imperialist army, and in her subtle undertones asking who is to blame for what. One can criticize on America on dropping the bomb named little boy, but one can also criticize the massacre done by imperialist Japanese army in china...... If you ask a person from your land about partition, he will be blaming the other side, but if you ask the people from the other side, they will tell the same story, remembering your side of cities instead of theirs.......to be honest i can understand the Indian side of happiness seeing the Britishers out but i do not understand your part of celebrations"

"Well, we celebrate the idea of safeguarding our culture, our traditions" i tried to defend.

"From what?" she taunted, " From the people who are wearing the same clothes, have the same food, have the same emotional characteristics(else how do you define culture).... and specially after the fall of Dhaka, seems like the same if not more number of Muslims are living on the other side???? , and besides how will you describe your friends who choose to become economic migrants(already left or leaving your land) after being political migrants for years. I really do not understand their sense of celebration or love of the land they left.

I wanted to deny all her arguments, but apart from my emotions i had no logic to continue further......Perhaps she was right, perhaps the Japanese girl was right as well for at least the compassion can be remembered of so many deaths and affected lives and only the bright future can be celebrated.....Perhaps acute pessimism can give birth to clear sighted optimism, be it Hiroshima, my land, holocaust, Rwanda genocide or slow but mass migration of economic immigrants who worry more about better food and living then a sense of communal life......


P.S:
Remembering a poem from punjabi language

Lali ankhian di pai dasdi ay
Roay toosi vi ho, roay asi vi aan
(By Ustad Daman)

The redness of the eyes tells us
That you have wept as well as i have wept

Picture courtesy: Wikipedia "on ind0-pak partition"

Imagining Japan from Africa

I am watching a Japanese tv channel (NHK world) alot these days. It all started when my satellite TV connection expired due to non payment and i for some reason wanted not to watch the hundreds of channels anymore and convinced my self instead to watch the only Japanese free channel coming. Strange, how the whole world starts to dance in the 'palm of our hands'; me sitting in Africa, away from my land , and getting obsessed with a another culture of a land even farther away.

I am beginning to love this channel and the whole Japanese culture in particular. The channel undertones are so serene, so objectively subjective about japan, so pure and above all so mellow as if one is watching a culture where time is of no value. Japanese are still recovering from the March 11 earth quake, some thing you can feel in the undertones of every news headline, documentary or soap operas but the sense of community and the calmness of living is visible in abundance.
From the peaceful zen gardens, to the British woman living in Ohara growing flowers, to the Shugendo religion(a religion that worship mountains) whose followers are called Yamabushi(those who sleep in the mountains) and who emphasize too much on experimental awakening then the rituals.... all these individual colors paint such a beautiful still picture conveying much more on human life and perpetuity of living then the usual commercial channels..... a classic subtle french cuisine compared to a spicy fast food living.....

I have cancelled my trip to japan two times now on short notices, but i hear a calling somewhere deep inside me sometimes, on going to this faraway land and stay for few months....perhaps my heart be able to find peace there..........

Smells, sounds, Imagination

I was wondering if it is the imagination we associate to a certain music or smell which changes it to a music of longing, or a fragrance of subtle remembrance of life. Or is it in these invisible singing birds carrying fragrances from old times and far off places which reminds us of our mute existence and paint our imagination in their own colors...

Yesterday Ertyaas was preparing a potpourri with alot of dry Champa flowers she collected from near by tree, grounded fresh cloves and cinnamon from the Zanzibar island and local sea salt. She imagines the five petals of the Champa flower as the five phases of women (Birth, maidenhood, motherhood, woman of wisdom and eternal rest) and the strong smell of cloves reminds her of the present living........

She is definitely of the first type. On the other-hand, I went to a hindu temple here in Dar-es salaam today, and rang the big hanging bell just to become lost in the long resonating sound, reminding me of my old long gone religious tranquil phase of life. The Agarwood incense sticks were all around,and like an invisible mist spreading everywhere, helping everybody to forget about the outside world, to the point where one can even listen to the tiny milk droplets dripping on Lord Shiva's Lingam.The sound of these falling droplets became the imagination of time,with each drop representing another fallen precious moment of our lives.

Another sound that stirred my imagination lately. A call i got from my family of my father having a heart surgery next week, took me back to all those past thirty years of little time spent together, with vivid and fading collage of moving and still pictures flashing on my mindscreen.

May be I am starting to miss my land(at least that's what Ertyaas thinks)...or may be my senses are calling me back to a life of reality, reminding me with their little shouting of their humble existence........