Across Boundaries: Idealising Home

 Across Boundaries: Idealising Home (2012) was my diploma project at National Institute of Design (NID), where I have documented the portraits and homes of the Burmese Chin Refugees who have landed in New Delhi in search of a new home. This project was completed with guidance of Chakradhar Saswade, Associate Sr. Designer, Faculty, Communication Design, NID.

(my other photography blog 'Silenthustlephotos' can be accessed in this link: http://silenthustlephotos.blogspot.in/)

Synopsis 

The Chin people of Burma are a group of tribal minorities in west Burma, who have been greatly oppressed since the military junta rule in 1962. The suppressed pro-democracy movement in 1988 and the Saffron Revolution due to immense hike in fuel price in 2007 further worsened their situation. Due to immense afflictions by the military junta, religious oppression and poor economy, many left their homeland in search of a better livelihood. For many Chins, India is a destination for refuge. After finding their way to New Delhi, they seek protection from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) with hopes of getting resettled to the developed western countries like USA, Australia and United Kingdom. Even though the Burmese democratic reform is in process, many who have fled/ left the country are still skeptical about the current government and are not yet ready to return to their homeland.

The capital city of India has granted them a temporary home but life is still harsh and difficult. As they do not have work permits and citizen rights, they take up low wage jobs and many a time, they are cheated and exploited. This project shows the portraits and homes of some the Burmese Chin refugees and asylum seekers who have landed in New Delhi. They crossed the international boundaries with a hope that one day they will have a better livelihood. They have found a temporary home, but their hearts do not belong there. They dream of ‘a home where the heart belongs’.

As humans, we all strife for survival; we have certain goals set in our minds. Each one follows his own path. Dreams, goals, ambitions etc. differ from person to person, but what most of us look for is that place where we feel accepted and at home. The search for belonging and acceptance is ceaseless. I hope each individual and family whom I have met during this project will one day find the ‘Home’ they have been aspiring for.    

I left Burma in the wake of the Pro Democracy demonstration in 1988... I was the heir apparent of a large fortune, but I chose to leave because of the Burmese government.

Across Borders

Across the border

She heard the stories and rumours,
She had seen and come across Them;
She had personally never met Them,
And the thought of it never struck her;
Nor did it ever catch her interest.

Why?

The stories and rumours are hardly ever positive,
A naive mind, a society filled with such notions;
There was no space to think beyond.
It was just negativity and contempt,
But she never wondered why.

To care or not to care?

Only a few bothered
And She need not bother,
But it came to her.
The stories and rumours she grew up with;
They were not wrong.

My father was killed by the military junta when I was a bit younger. We
fled to another village as the soldiers were on the hunt for our heads
too. When they got hold of us, they killed my mother. I wish to be with
my parents and the rest of my family peacefully, be financially secure and struggle no more...

Is there a reason behind?

Everything in its own time,
It took some time to realise;
So they say, “Old memories die hard”
And wiping off the notions She grew up with,
Thus became a challenge.

What lies beneath?

Truth, a simple truth
Called Boundary Lines,
Created by the so called superior,
An unnecessary division;
But history had already done its part.

Who is She? Who are Them?

She is just a girl across the border,
And Them live across the border.
She and Them were divided; separated
But they all belong to one,
She realised they were none but ethnic brethren.

 

We have more freedom here in Delhi, as compared to Burma. But we are ill treated in all possible ways and being looked down upon by the local people.

Similar, but why so different?

She saw their similarities,
And realised her difference,
Raised by contrasting political ideals;
Them grew under oppression,
And Her in liberty.

Home is with family, peace, stability
where we don’t have to be scared...
no need to worry about being overruled
where we don’t have to run...

A new chapter...

Eyes wide open,
She saw and understood more;
And stale notions left behind.
Them require not pity,
But a well-wish.

My husband was taken as a porter by the Burmese soldiers in 2008, while adjusting the baggage, he was shot by one of the soldiers. I was also physically and sexually abused

I was involved in political movements against the Burmese government.
In 2005, a warrant for arrest was issued against me for a lifetime
imprisonment. I love my homeland, but it has been under the wrong hands. So I have to flee to avoid the imprisonment.

Them Unvoiced

In Them Land,
Them exist but got no voice;
Them live under persecution.
To live, Them left home;
Only time will decide the return

We do not want to be refugees but we have no other choice, we cannot go back to Burma. This refugee life is very depressing, we work extremely hard but whatever we earn is not sufficient for the family

The Sojourners

Them travelled far,
In a stranger’s land;
Life ain’t forgiving still,
Surrounded by destitution,
Them survive to live.

We are being treated as micro-migrant workers, with the lowest wages and most of the times unfairly paid

The Unforgiving Land

Making ends meet,
In the land of the vigorous,
On the brink of forlorn hope;
With fear and tears,
Them sweat and toil.

We are being treated as micro-migrant workers, with the lowest wages and most of the times unfairly paid

We wish to live a life where we can be citizens of
freedom and not looked down upon.

The Hope

Some wished the sky would tumble down,
And Them misery be done with.
Death at times seemed sweeter;
But faint hope of a promised land,
Keep Them will going.

I wish my children could grow up in our ancestral homeland, the place where they were born.

The Destination

The so called Promised Land,
A lucky few found their way to it.
The rest strife, waiting for the call;
Belonging neither here nor there,
Strangers in a stranger’s land.

 

Now my main priority for the future is our children’s
education. I don’t really care much for riches or wealth. If I can give my kids quality education, my heart will be content.

The Wish 

Where one is at peace,

Where one is without fear,
Where one is free,
A place called Home, a Family;
Them wish nothing more.