Life is like a book when turning the pages reminds us of bitter and sweet memories. There’s no doubt that life is a complex issue. From the beginning to the end of this perilous journey, a variety of stories are formed, and every moment the human mind moves towards to be better and to live better. The scenario of each person’s life is exclusive and dedicated to him, as if line by line has already been written down that he considers himself in the game of life sometimes happy and sometimes sad, but autonomous in his actions and behaviors.
The philosophy of life and the world around us is more complex than our imaginations and fantasies of the universe. Whenever I think about my past, present, and the way ahead and thousands of colorful memories in the maze of life, I find it more and more that everything in this world is subject to its surrounding conditions. Like the seasons of year that their color change depending on the passage of time, or similar to cultures and traditions that depending in the place and time, everything and all things in this world make sense in the present and surrounding conditions.
Beyond this story, the perfectionist human mind seeks and looks for a better world, perhaps to improve its present and future. Of course, it should not be forgotten that the concept of being better and living better has a different definition for each person. For example, for a person, a better life may be summed up in having money and comfort of life. Having money and wealth for any person can be a tempting issue. Having a luxurious house in a beautiful place with a luxury car can multiply life’s comfort. Maybe all of this from the perspective of a person can only form a minimum requirements of life if it is an impossible dream for another person.
On the other hand, the notion of better life can make sense in peace and civil security. A place where you can reach your daily life away from any quarrels and conflicts. Where you no longer have to worry about the destruction of your home due to war and the sound of bullets and rockets is not the terrifying music of every moment of your life. Where you are no longer staring at the door, not being anxious about your loved ones returning home. The situation that has prevailed in some countries today due to the stupidity and greed of politicians and has caused the homelessness of millions of people from their homeland.
The story of todays is for countries like Syria and Afghanistan for which saving lives is the true meaning of life, while someone else in the world is upset about the cancellation of their summer vacation. It really is a strange world, there is a big gap between the world of people. An unimaginable distance for many who have just watched the war on their television screen.
In my opinion, the bitterness of life is summed up in the boundless inequality and injustice of our unstable world. The world that witnesses the birth of two babies, one who only one hour after birth, while still unfamiliar with the scent of the warm embrace of the mother, dies under the debris of the bombing, and the other grows in an ornate cradle and luxurious house under the umbrella of the family. He enjoys far away from any worries of his life. The scales of justice have never been equal.
Those who do not tolerate silence and blackness of thought have no choice except to emigrate
Lack of freedom of speech and thought is another excuse to leave the homeland. Because the voice of truth is not melodious for some. For those for whom greed has no end. People who have built their world on the shoulders of thousands of people who have bent their backs due to the weight of this burden. Telling the truth is the scandal of the scoundrel of the time who cannot bear to hear it. Telling the truth means expressing courage after the darkness of ignorance and superstition that is sometimes strangled in the throat before it is uttered and never heard.
In a society where there is death and suffocation of thought, there will be no hope for its future and it is getting closer and closer to the abyss of annihilation every day. Those who do not tolerate silence and blackness of thought have no choice except to emigrate and step on a path where their voice is heard and their thoughts are understood. In exchange for this freedom, they are forced to leave their roots and homeland and the loved ones who have made their own identity in them. This is a severe compensation so that they can freely express their thoughts and ideas.
But even this path is not easy, because the prosperous and modern world does not accept immigrants and refugees, which is a great example of world inequality. Millions of people around the world migrate to find a better life, which from the moment of decision until they reach stable conditions in life, they have to experience hundreds and maybe thousands of hardships and difficulties with all their being. Because immigration is one of the biggest human decisions that sometimes has to imposed on itself unintentionally.
From the beginning to the end of this journey, it may take several years for a decade of human life to be spent rebuilding life. In a way, migration means heading again. A new beginning in a new world where the mother tongue no longer makes sense. Just because my hometown is different from yours and I am doomed to suffer.
Every moment and every time you have to see the sense of duality within yourself and accept that even though you are free, but your neighbor sees you as a foreigner. Although it is not a lock on your word, but the spirit of life is no longer felt in it. It is as if the shadow of sorrow does not leave you and always limits your joys like a fence. Then there will be tears of sadness, a heavy black cloud, which falls and falls, and falls again, until you turn off again, to wonder why, in a free and secure world, I cannot be happy again. This is where you find yourself helpless and think of the bitter fate of the times and surrender to fate.
This is the world of an immigrant, before you called me a foreigner, I realized the bitterness of fate. It is not the cold look of the neighbor that bothers me, but it is the alien look inside me behind the mirror that breaks me from the depths of my being.
Because I’m an immigrant.