Beyond Kabul

Right before our eyes, people crushed, pushed, shoved and showed their papers. Sweat and tears, separation and survival.

Then the planes airlifted to 30,000 feet, leaving behind the dust and the doubts: free at last!

Not yet. Not quite. Not completely and mentally self-vetted. You might want to be sure: do you want to leave the past behind, with what’s on you, to live and thrive in a land where Charlottesville has “good people on both sides”?

Check your destination before departure. You’re destined to face prejudice (judging you even before you set foot on the ground e.g. TSA are learning fast: they check now under-the-hood when you board the plane).

Are you sure? OK, for your kids’ future. I conquer. Then lead by example. Live beyond Kabul, worthy of your sacrifices. Make sure your kids become doctors and dentists. Make sure they fight for what you, losing everything and leaving everything behind, have stood up for: to live free and speak freely.

Just imagine you’re on a train to have your head shaved, and DDT sprayed on you before putting out to forced labor. Let’s say those failed escape (Papillons) have their bodies hung in the Sun to discourage you.

All in the name of a Kingdom of God on Earth. Hail to the King? Bow down to/before Him for millennial to come?

You will cut grasses, plant trees and trim the shrubs…BUT, if that’s what you decided to do, in exchange for money (kids need shoes). Lawns are important, more important than where you came from.

You will get up so early that your days are long, and the nights endless…till all your races run, passion spent.

You will be re-certified every few years or so, to have medical and mental check-ups…to make sure, you’re not domestic terrorists, homegrown or overseas-planted.

While at it, check your kids too. Make sure Ft Bliss (camp-out) doesn’t turn to be Ft Hood (shoot-out).

You will learn the rope, the white lies and the White Knights (KKK). You will learn to stay in place, keep your place and move up in place. One rung at a time. You are America’s newest huddle mass. Come to Mamma. Come to Ellis Island (preferably White, like Melania). But too bad, we’re stuck with each other. We’ll have to make the best of it. Learn, write, pay taxes and keep your head down, face uncovered (when the pandemic is behind us).

Your story is America’s. Is mine. Is ours…we try our best for future generations, and make our sacrifice worthwhile. Blood, sweat and tears…all under 30,000 feet now. Welcome to the neighbourhood. Now get to work.

P.S. I know it’s early to sow the seeds…But, forget not your fellow sufferers who are stuck and struck by bombs.