The Nasaka and A Rohingya
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| (Photo: Khin Maung Win/AP) |
The Nasaka and A Rohingya
Ro Mayyu Ali
RB Poem
April 3, 2017
I was born to a bona fide
By the genetic of Rohingya
And it's Nasaka as a foetus
In the womb of my country's dictatorship
Known as one of the world's most brutal Juntas
Perhaps, it's in 1991's Myanmar.
In scorching heat of 1992,
He with thousands of comrades
In over hundreds of settlements
With quite switch of Junta's past strategies
Taken encounter into my heaven
Not only to hack the branches
But to eliminate the entire root
"Look! A Bengali student!
He'll pass matric and marry a wife who gives 10 million kyats. That's the only benefit of his educating in our Buddhist country!"
Still echoing into my head
What he told me in a check post
While going to sit for my matric exam
How could I forget each of his?
He and me, not less than a pair
Even he from royal Junta
And I from prey of Rohingyas
How much he's called me 'Bengali'
In his tone of red-nose mood
Never be the equal grand of
My mom ever called me 'Dear'
Moment of my frequent glimpse
Into the hidden chapter of his reign
A time of my heart feeling goes out
Fear is my first feeling
When I open my eyes in morning
Just life in empty joy
Sound sleep through the lonesome dark
Because of chronic and traumatic
Shame and guiltiness begin to surround
Thought of ending life is common
I might forget his feature
Shall never I forget
How he made me feel in my boyhood.
What he led me suffering
In full guile of rigor and rampage
A high-court level of sobs and wails
Identities were confiscated.
Testimonies were degraded.
Peak of denial in every step
Tangible coercion for every breath
In a very short length of stay,
Everything in our life descended
Into a whirlpool of wreckage
And ornament of havoc, as well
Ah! How allergic all of his were!
Every single practice of his flares
The dark pines of our mind dip deeper.
Women are widowed and single.
New-born are without certificates.
Children are lack of welfare.
Young people are broken.
All lost hope and are traumatized.
To a group, every string is well-cutted off.
This is the way a group of people be expelled
Not with a mass slaughter
But with whimper after whimper
Indeed, he's one of the most doleful
Of genocidal operations against Rohingya
So even the masterpiece of Bengalization to elite Rohingya
He's the one
Who herds affection towards the animosity
He's the one
Who turns other's dream to nightmare
He's the one
Who keeps people dead being alive
At the end his decade,
All ever has he well set up
Bequeathing his innate legacy
The victory he sought was won
And farewell in laughter and flavour
On 15 of June, 2013,
He the cobra saw the bound of the halt
And transformed to BGP
And I'm made an incredible illegal immigrant.
Verily, I'm made an immigrant Bengali.
I'm seen as a Bengali.
And now I'm a Bengali.
A Myanmar's well-generated Bengali!
The poet is an original Rohingya. He himself was the victim of Nasaka operation. Nasaka, the Burmese term called to Border Immigration Forces. In 1992, it's established by Myanmar's Junta administration to set up the genocidal strategies against Rohingya. After 2012-June violence, it officially came to a halt on 5 of March, 2013. And now it is seen as the Border Guard Police (BGP) in Northern Rakhine State.
