– Maham Shah
I am from a generation who have seen their grandparents staring blankly in distance
Recollecting
T h e P a s t
T h e T r a n s i t i o n.
For them it was like travelling through trains from one phase of life to another phase.
I remember my Nana missing his childhood days. I remember my Nani, not always,
But often,
grieving over her older sister’s death at 18 years of age. Some recollection of the horrors of the
refugee camps:
“I tried to save her, but she passed away. My Aapa had the most beautiful hair!”
The stories of slaughter, loss, and uncertainty – ending a journey to embark on another – a whole
generation has swept from this land.
Who will narrate the stories all over again?
I belong to a generation who celebrates freedom today
I see the new generation driving insanely on the roads (All hail the freedom of owning a road!)
I see the new generation howling on the roads like an unruly clan of teenagers desperate to make
their presence known (All hail the freedom passed on through generations – we’ve yet to figure
out the crisis of identity!)
I see the new generation mindlessly following and being herded to suffice someone’s egoistic
interests (All hail the altruism in the refugee camps long dead!)
I see myself standing silently, not passing on one word of what my grandparents said
All hail the freedom while the origins I forget, you forget, we forget! A generational gap!
