On being a Political Orphan.

This is about how I feel towards my ancestral lands, which for reasons and events outside my control has been truncated to and defined as a nation state bearing the title Bangladesh. I know who I am, what my forefathers strove towards, but for reasons outside my control their ambitions have been mutilated and distorted to create some mutilated poor man's third rate nationalism. In this country the biggest business is in making money out of other people's misfortune, either by 'developing them' or empowering them in sweatshops dedicated to inexpensive and crude clothes for AngloSaxonia. Sheesh.

There is a lesson here for the lazy. Do not assume that similar geographical origin has anything to do with defining 'Your People'.

You join the political orphanage when the society that you emanate from kills, then burys your past and pretends that it never existed. In its place it grafts a creakingly heavy narrative of emotional blackmail as your story of national liberation. It breeds replicas of itself, each generation engineered to bear its scars and mind blocks.

Sometimes people, when they have had enough, divorce their political parents, skip a generation of tutelage and nurture a new ambience, a new sound. I would recommend Bangladeshis do just that.

The Orphanage is not a virtual community based on the web, in case anybody was getting strange delusions of grandeur.

This post is not to make light of those who's father is no longer with them. Just in case anybody was being literalist.

1 comment:

purple said...

I think I may start using 'Political Orphan' in the future, it's quite an useful terminology, many uses...