Kumar: An Afgan in Belgium

Long weekend (1-3 May 2009) and I decided to take off to Netherlands for a biking trip near Leiden and also from Lelystad to Enkhuizen, on a wonderful pathway that splits the Sea. Netherlands is considered "Heaven for Bikers" and biking (cycling in India) seems to be in my blood. My parents enjoyed a bike trip from Miraj to Wadi in Maharashtra when they got engaged. Here though, I was alone. There is something that lures me about traveling alone as one invariably meets interesting strangers on the way. When you are in groups, you are sought of within the group and forgo this opportunity but while alone one earnestly look for these interactions.

As I boarded the train to Brussels North from Leuven station, a 360 degree smile welcomed me. With canned beer in his hand, Kumar made an offer I could not refuse and occupied the seat next to him. Immediately, he started conversing in hindi, "Kaha se ho?, India se? (Where are you from? , India?) "Bombay, India", I nodded "aur aap? (and you?)". "Well, I was born in India. But we as a family shifted to Afganistan soon when I was three. We had a huge business in Peshawar-Pakistan and Kabul-Afganistan and we decided to move. We were fabric merchants." "Then how come you landed in Belgium?", I intervened. Kumar had a visible sorry state on his face. He explained,"As you know, there is war going on there. If I go back they (Taliban) will make me fight against Americans. If you are young then you have no option but to stand and fight. Practically No Life Exists There. Women of our home are not safe as well. They cut their fingers if they get the glimpses of the fingers. They chop their hands if they sight them. Burn their eyes if they see them. Burkha is a must but may not be enough. It's not a safe place at all. Koi bhi waha pe apni zindagi bana nahi sakata. (Nobody can make life there)"

I was shocked. It was not as if I was not aware of the situation but to hear it from horse's mouth was an experience and not a pleasent one. "How are your family members? I hope they are safe and sound.", my genuine concerns. "Haan ji (Yes). Jan hein to Jahan hein. Family hein to Khushiyan. Luckily all are safe, heal and hearty. We had developed contacts with some Punjabis when we were in business. If we had not wound up our businesses, we would have been snatched all our dukans, makans, khets (all wealth in general), by Taliban. We might have been killed too. waise bhi, koi bhi waha pe apni zindagi to bana nahi sakata (Nobody can make one's life there). So we made a deal with Punjabis and requested them to take us out and we came to Belgium around four years back."

I was happy to learn that all his family members are safe but was curious to know how he and his family has survived for four years in Belgium. He informed that they have been given a place to stay in Sint-Truiden. He also informed that there are around 40 Afgan, Punjabi families in Sint-Truiden. Some of them have been here for a longer while and have constructed a temple for the community. There are 2-3 gurudwaras (a place where sikhs pray) too. Most of us meet at the temple often. We perform kirtens and other ceremonies too. There are a few Afgan and Punjabi families in Kortrijk as well. They were asking us if we want to move to Kortrijk but we refused to go because of the temple.

Hope is a good thing and good things don't die

Kumar carried a lot of hopes too. I hope to settle into some kind of business in Belgium. As it is I have an experience as a fabric merchant. They have offered papers to my father, who is above 65. I have been given an Orange card* for now and I am putting an effort to avail a white card soon. I am going to a lawyer now and hope things workout. Once I obtain right papers, I will start my business and I will make my life here in Belgium. Certainly, Hope is Eternal. I wished him all the success in all his endeavors as the train came to halt in Brussels North, an intermediate stop to Netherlands.

Fifteen minutes of interaction generated a fodder to think for 15 hours. During the entire trip my mind was thinking about people who have been snatched of their lives, be it because of bomb blasts, riots, wars or anything. There must have been a volcano within these people which can break any time. The exodus of Kashmiri pundits from their homeland or of hindus from Pakistan and Afganistan is as unexplainable and abhorable as the killings during Gujrat riots or of plenty of Palesteinians in Gaza. So abhorable was the mass murdering of Jews during WW-II and earlier. I was carrying Hitler's Mine Kamph (you may call it a coincidence) with me this time around. As I started reading Hitler's philosophy which said, "The plough is then the sword; and the tears of war will provide daily bread for the generations to come". Something I could never comprehend...never ever comprehend.
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* Orange card is a form of restricted residence permit in Belgium. You can't move out of Belgium unless you have a White card and above. I do not know all the colors.