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Of Human Attachments and Immigration Cycles

Sayeeda Jaigirdar
■ Die sun is out, the sky is blue
There's not a cloud to spoil the blue
But it's raining, raining in my heart..."
(Lines from an old, old song...)
My parents were here and now they have gone back home, leaving a strange emptiness inside. It had been a glorious summer: Clear skies with occasional bouts of rain, blazing scorching sun that turned us to copper tones and a steady breeze in the evenings. We had been determined to show them as much of Canada as we could in these six weeks and so had traveled much with them: Trips by VIA rail to a cousin's house in Windsor near the American border, by car to an uncle's place in Hamilton, Montreal, and a Greyhound bus trip to Ottawa. At the end of it all, my father was well satisfied with most of his trip and declared that Canada was indeed a beautiful country with immense resources and unlimited future potential. He had spent most of his mornings at our local library reading up on the country and ended up knowing more about Canada in six weeks than I probably had in ten years!
So why this sadness, this pulling of the heart strings, as I saw them walk away at Pearson International airport, each airport parting rendering them a little more fragile, leaving me a hrile more human? My little daughter, used to reading my face, murmured philosophically: “Don't be sad Mummy-They came from their own world and are now returning back to it”. “ Their own world?" Could my daughter have been watching Star Trek' instead of her favorite Hannah Montana ? Or did she really regard Bangladesh as a separate world? Not where Hannah Montana is concerned...
Hannah Montana and the Disney channel (also called the Family Channel) have taken the entire world by storm. My mother had a shopping list for our young nieces and nephews back home, in which the items were to have pictures of Ms Hannah Montana, High School Musical stars and the Jonas Brothers. So I took her to Wal-Mart. We found several items and looked at the label Made in Bangladesh'. Oops! The speed of globalization was noteworthy! Everything returns...
Skip and jump back to the aching heartstrings, the price that we as immigrants pay is this: Observe us at airports and you will see us in our ultimate form, our pride stripped away, our faces tear-streaked and our hands touching our dear ones, letting go and yet lingering on for a last glimpse, a last wave Many of you may say, “We told you so-why did you have to leave your own country?" But we did, and the deed is done, and the price is often costly.
It is often said that the first-generation immigrant pays the ultimate price of immigration. *me future generations reap the benefits. Social scientists in North America have reported the typical immigrant cycle in the following manner: In the first couple of months, the newly landed immigrant is euphoric--the new country is full of promise, much lies ahead, the future appears rosy. Once this initial phase is over, the reality of immigration begins to sink in--jobs are not as available or secure as once envisioned, language skills require honing, cultural shock sets in (specially for parents with teenagers) and funds may begin to wear thin. At this stage, many immigrants disillusioned by all these factors, may even consider to return to their homeland, as feelings of homesickness are overwhelming. Those made of stronger mettle survey the landscape and plunge into re-educating and equipping themselves with the skills and expertise needed to survive in their new land. In doing so, if they are lucky, they may pass on to the next generation the lesson that perseverance and hard work is the key to success.
These first-generation-immigrant feelings of displacement and alienation are the stuff that many North American South Asian writers base their stories on. Rohinton Mistry is one such Canadian novelist (born in Bombay) whose novels as well as his short stories skillfully attract the reader with a well crafted plot, realistic characters and his keen observation of human conditions in both India and Canada. His first novel Such a Ijong Journey (1991) won Canada's Governor General's Award and his second novel A Fine Balance (1995) won the Giller Prize and was featured recently on Oprah's show. In a short story titled Swimming Lessons', a young man writes stories about his life in Canada and the story is filled with nostalgic references to the narrator's life in India, which are paralleled by his experiences in Canada. The narrator suggests that he is out of his depth at times and is able to understand and come to terms with his new life by means of his art of writing stories.
It was hopeless. My first swimming lesson. The water terrified me. When did that happen, I wonder. I used to love splashing at Chaupatty. carried by the waves. And this was only a swimming pool. Where did all the terror come from? I'm trying to remember."
Where did the heartache come from? It was only an airport. I am also trying to remember...
JaigiWt is The Song of the Jamdanee Sari.