Silk
On Rohingya Refugee Crisis
I am
The Stateless they say
Least wanted
Most prosecuted
I am fleeing
20000 a day
Words are
“ethnic cleansing” I think
But who cares
I am in my mother’s silk
~
Vaishali Paliwal
Poem first appeared in Somnia Blue, January 2018
We read, we hear, we reflect and analyze, we scream, we write. Then we move on. So many heartbreaks of this world. What are we to do, the dreadful poets and artists?
I had written and recited poems on Rohingya crisis, and then … well moved on.
The problems with our world are the vile things, but our bigger problem is our growing numbness to the these vile things; our silence is a daily death.
I can’t find the photograph now, but I had written the above poem after seeing this image in news about a Rohingya refugee woman carrying her dead child in her sari.
Thankful to reporters and writers like Jennifer Chowdhury who are bringing to us these stories that need to be written and written and spoken and spoken until the world finally hears. Hence, just get used to us, the dreadful poets and artists.
Below is a story of some hope, although still underneath are uncountable stabs on humanity. The Rohingya people have been described as “one of the world’s least wanted minorities” and “some of the world’s most persecuted people”.
