Bangladeshot hijrot gorilam boyonda ghor feli

Lingua: Bengali (Rohingya)

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Terzo testo raccolto tra i Rohingya profughi in Bangladesh

Testo trovato in Farzana, K. F. (2011). Music and Artistic Artefacts: Symbols of Rohingya Identity and Everyday Resistance in Borderlands. ASEAS – Austrian Journal of South-East Asian Studies, 4(2), 215-236.

For the refugees, songs are used as a glue for community bonding. Besides singing individually, refugees in Nayapara occasionally camp out, once or twice a month, for small singing programmes, usually on a moonlit night, within their small boundary between huts and only with the consent of the Camp-in-Charge.14 At these gatherings, they use their traditional instruments (juri and tobla) and sing country songs, religious or philosophical songs, and songs that represent their everyday issues in the camp. Although the group performances in camp are mostly by men, women are welcome as well. As these gatherings take place within the spaces between huts, the women can also enjoy it from inside their rooms. Such occasions not only provide them with entertainment: the impact is greater as they pronounce their frustrations together, recall their memories, transmit them to the new generation, and bond themselves together.
The next song was shared by a group of refugees as they express their love and longing for their ‘home’. This extremely melodious and rhythmic song was popular with the crowd and drew much attention as refugees at that gathering stopped talking and some joined in the chorus.
It is all about their memory of ‘home’. Here, the word ‘home’ has a dual meaning: their current home in the village as well as their home in the sense of their motherland, Arakan. This song does not talk about their reasons for migrating; rather, it is recalling and cherishing the thought that they had to migrate to Bangladesh “leaving behind … our beautiful homes”. A home is considered a peaceful place where everyday activities take place. Memories of dried food on the rooftop and, in the back yard or in the field, those fresh green chilli gardens are all symbolic of that concept of life, that stability or peacefulness in life, which the Rohingyas had lost at some point in the past. Now in exile, they do not have the chance to settle down, have their own place, and tend their gardens. Their life today is very different from anything they could have imagined before coming to Bangladesh. When they were forced to come to Bangladesh, leaving behind everything, the Rohingyas thought they would have a peaceful life in this new country; after all, they thought, they belong to the ‘same religion’. But that did not work in reality. The politics of state superseded religious sympathy. Instead of accepting them as citizens, Bangladesh recognised only a few thousand refugees and labelled the rest of the undocumented refugees as ‘illegal economic migrants’; this subjected the stateless community to constant exploitation and threat. So those memories of ‘home’, ‘dried food’, and ‘fresh chillies’ are now precious memories of a past that was peaceful but is lost now.
When the refugees look to the east from Bangladesh towards Arakan and the mountain range of Arakan Yoma, they ‘remember many things of the past’. Many families were split up. Parents had sent their young children outside of Arakan to save their lives while they themselves chose to stay and die in their homeland. These are the painful memories the refugees hide as they go about their daily lives; they continue to cherish these memories in their minds and sustain them by composing songs. They still feel nostalgic for their homeland. Perhaps this tarana served as a constant reminder of their past.
Chalot chaile choyer bora
Khetit chaile moricher hora
Ghoror dhuare khande kutta girich
Giya feli, Bangladeshot hijrot gorilam, jati vai boli!

Deha geli puber thinki,
desher monot orer chinki

Haire ma-bap hore geli?
Arare Bangladeshot hijtor gori
Hijrot gorilam Burma desh feli

inviata da dq82 - 3/12/2016 - 11:35

Lingua: Inglese

Traduzione inglese di Farzana

On our rooftop there was dried food
In our field we had fresh chillies
we migrated to Bangladesh leaving everything behind thinking
that we are of the same (Muslim) brotherhood

Now when we look back to the East,
We remember many things of the past

O, where are my beloved parents?
You sent us to Bangladesh
We migrated leaving behind the country Burma (II)

inviata da dq82 - 3/12/2016 - 11:38

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