A photograph of the immigration at the airport. It has 5 counters and a special counter for immigration verification with less number of passengers.

Photo Credit: Arunkumar (Arun) Rajavel

1 You Lie in Wait, You Observe

Long before all these divisions were opened between home and the road, between a woman’s place and a man’s world, humans followed the crops, the seasons, traveling with their families, our companions, animals, our tents. We built campfires and moved from place to place. This way of traveling is still in our cellular memory. Living things have evolved as travellers. Even migrating birds know that nature doesn’t demand a choice between nesting and flight.

― Gloria Steinem, My Life on the Road.

  • Dear reader, prepare to embark on a grand narrative. The great story of my migration, your migration, our migration. First things first. In this journey, I shall play the narrator, and you the character. Let us go back to a time circa 6 million years ago and make our way slowly to the current day.

A gentle breeze wakes you up. You look around. You see green and brown things. You feel the wind. You hear some sounds. You are confused as to what these sensations are and mean. You are not sure where you are, or even what you are. You see little shapes run by, followed by big shapes. The big shapes make a different sound than the little shapes. The little one swiftly moves in front with the big one behind, tracking it. The big shape catches the little shape and starts to engulf it, with the little shape letting out a shrill. You wait and see. You are still confused and uncertain. You stay motionless. Something comes over you and you find yourself floating about, the distance between you and the brownish ground increasing. You feel both scared and excited as you enjoy this sensation. You try to go and touch the big shape, but nothing happens. You mimic the big shape and try to open what you thought is the hole that opens and closes. You engulf the remains of the little shape, but nothing happens. You realise you cannot do things these little shapes and big shapes do. Your presence does not seem to have any effect on either of these shapes. You lie in wait. You observe.

Having observed quietly for a long duration, you grasp the concept of time and space; at least you think you do. Although you cannot quantify anything, you grasp the concept by taking note of how everything around you gets dark and light. You come to know that you are a massless, shapeless, imperceptible thing. Your attempts at interacting with objects all fail and you stop interacting altogether and resign to merely observing. You also realise you do not need to eat or sleep or do anything that these animals—the ones you previously saw as mere shapes—do. You recognise different animals and their varied habitats. You see their reactions to different weather conditions. You realise that those immovable beings that you later call plants and trees are also similar to the moving animals in many respects. They grow, they respond to weather, and they increase in numbers, just as these animals do. Among the animals, some move quickly, some move slowly; some are massive, and they let out a huge cry, some are small and meek; some chase, some get chased. In time, you understand that what is distinct about these beings, and other things such as water and soil and rocks, is that the former have some animating force within. This force stays inside them for some time, lets these beings grow, and then all of a sudden, it leaves. With your omnipotent perception, you see life being created, and you also see it fade out and die. You understand the concept of life and of death, and the agency that these organisms have. You also come to realise that you can freely float anywhere you want. Just a handful of animals can do that. You also go into the ocean freely, see all the majestic beasts and come back unscathed. You squint your eye-like appendage and see so many particles just floating by in the air, in the sea, on the trees, on the animals – they are everywhere and anywhere you look. You find it fascinating. You un-squint and come back to the previous scale. You lie in wait. You observe.

You see a particular species change rapidly. You have been here for a very long time and have seen massive changes in all the animals and plants, and how they happened. These changes have all been gradual. But this species, the furry one on trees, seems to be undergoing quick changes, compared to other animals. They start to shed a lot of external furs, and they start to move on their hind legs. You see them use other animals’ skins and furs to compensate for the fur they lost. You see this animal spend more time on the ground than on trees. You see them build caves and use interesting ways of getting food. You see them go in packs and coordinate in ways no other animal does. You see them take material from trees and animals and build tiny arrangements under which they live. You see them grow in size, fight amongst each other, and split up. You see separate groups of these animals doing things differently. You see remarkably visible differences between each and every such animal of this species, which you find curious. You see them imprint their palms on cave walls. You see them build and create. You are particularly drawn to these animals. You lie in wait. You observe.

  • Yes, you are right to zero in on this species. This species is called the humans. They will undergo massive changes and by the time we arrive at our present age, they will be vastly different than how they look now. But for now, it’s going to be a heady journey. Buckle up!

You see them, despite having no claws or sharp teeth, defeating animals multiple times their own size by using various creative methods. You see them share their food with each other. You see the younglings being incredibly weak compared to all other animals but surviving merely through care from the elders. You see them face food shortages, and in response, they move and cross very large distances in search of food. Other than some of those flying animals, you haven’t seen other animals do this. The ones that fly usually follow a fixed routine and come back, whereas this species permanently leave their places. You see them change their environment and you see them adapt. As time goes on, you see them produce a vast number of different sounds that seem to carry some meaning. You later see these early communications develop further and become what these beings called a language. You are impressed and cannot wait to see what they will do next. You lie in wait. You observe.

You see them create those blazing things that they call fire and control it. Although you have seen forests make this fire to rejuvenate itself, this is quite new to be able to create it at will. You see them putting their food in it and eating; you find it amusing. You see how fire becomes a symbol of group cohesion; you see them sitting around it – talking, dancing, singing, gossiping. As time goes on, you see them bond with a completely different animal that used to be dangerous to them. A new companionship. You see this other predatory animal slowly losing its predatory instincts and gradually beginning to trust humans. You see the former listen and cooperate with the latter for an exchange of food. You call the former wolves. You see humans disperse even more widely than ever before and cross very large distances, in packs, and set up new places to live. You see them stay at one place and exploit the resources to depletion and then move to another place. You see them develop complex forms of expression that they leave as impressions on caves and rocks. You lie in wait. You observe.

  • Later day humans will find these cave drawings and marvel at them. They would compare themselves and think that their ancestors were intelligent. In their judgment will be hidden their superiority complex and their condescension.

Humans have started to experiment with other forms of movement. Having seen trees float on water, they realised they can use it too, to reach lands that are separated by large bodies of water. They take on such ventures and move from one island to the next. You see them slowly make progress with their trees. Seeing some drown, they start shaping the trees. They shape, they build, they experiment, they invent, and you witness – you witness it all. Their trees become bigger and bigger, and they have started to join multiple tree trunks making it safer to move across great distances. Islands that cannot be seen with their naked eyes (but you can see them) can now be discovered after a long voyage. You think they are brave. Many humans did drown and perish in their journey but that doesn’t seem to stop them. They go, they go, they go. They discover, they camp, they move. They eat new kinds of foods. Some die in the process but they continue exploring. You see them grow in unprecedented numbers. They seem to be everywhere you see. You float high above and see many different groups live in far off regions, too. You are more and more intrigued. You lie in wait. You observe.

Human lifespan is, you notice, very short, compared to how long you have been around. Yet the changes each successive generation displays are extraordinary. Although you have also been observing other living organisms, you continue to pay almost exclusive attention to humans. You see them realise that they can sow seeds in the soil and that this action can give them food. No longer is there a need to hunt; no longer is there a need to scourge the forest for edible foods that won’t kill them. Nonetheless, they do both—hunting and growing food. They eat everything safe to be eaten—fishes, animals, plants, fruits. They live in small groups eventually making tribes. As you float from one tribe to another, you realise that they are so well-adapted to the locality they live in that they fundamentally change their diets. Humans at this point are mostly shaped by their environment. They also shape their environment in minor ways. You lie in wait. You observe.

  • Take note, dear reader. This is major! Let this sink in. Other animals also shape their environment, but this is different; this has intention; this has planning.

You see that in some areas the tribes start growing bigger. They form small villages. They hunt, and they share their food. They start dividing their labour as set by the strongest member of their village. You see that living together does create some tussle, and they fight. You notice that the intensity and frequency has increased now. They resolve their issues with the strong member intervening, and you find it remarkable. You go from one village to another to essentially find the same behaviour. They eventually start making tools from their environment, and this improves the efficacy in their growing food and hunting. Their nutrition improves and they shed even more of their fur than before. They learn to make better clothing. They invent ways of storing food so that even if a particular yield fails, they don’t have to rely completely on hunting or moving away. As a timeless spirit with nothing to do and nowhere to go, you lie in wait. You observe.

Noticing how rounded rocks roll down the hills, some humans have started to deliberately create rounded rocks from irregular rocks. That eventually takes the shape of a primitive wheel. With the wheel, they start transporting their food easily. You see them make new, sophisticated tools. They realise they can heat the soil and make containers that can hold their food and water efficiently. As more and more generations do it, the shape improves, and it no longer is a solidified lump of soil. They acquire distinct shapes, they become pottery. You are fascinated. They start building stronger tools by mining resources from the earth. They work together to get out of floods and such natural calamities. You see that these calamities destroy everything the humans built. In some such floods, entire villages end up dead. With no powers to help or intervene, you lie in wait. You observe.

You see that humans, by now, have occupied almost every place on earth. Having lived here for generations, their outer skin changes, their languages change, their foods change, their ways of living together change. By now they have started to exchange their food and tools with nearby tribes. You notice that such a system is pretty much prevalent throughout the planet. It seemed as though it was in their nature to do so. The wolves that initially sought refuge, helped hunt and ate scrapes, have changed completely. They are barely recognisable from their other ancestors who did not go to the humans. During this time, most species have changed drastically, but of them all, humans display the greatest change. They have discovered better ways of telling stories than painting on cave walls. They begin inscribing on their pots and tools. Tiny villages become big cities. Multiple cities become kingdoms. Humans have started to create an artificial system of living together harmoniously (for the most part). The strongest member of such kingdoms starts dictating to other humans what to do. Having been amid the humans for a long time, you start to mimic their facial expressions, although no one can perceive you. You find yourself reacting to events the way humans would. You lie in wait. You observe.

With their mastery of the wheel, you see them engage in trade across great distances. You see them write stories and paint. Yet, you see them fight with each other more than ever.

  • Take note, reader: new ways of territoriality have emerged!

You see them raise armies, invent weapons and kill others. You see their kingdoms grow in size. You see them mine shiny metals from the earth and use these to trade with each other. You see them invent more tools, more ways of recording their stories. You see them invent gods. You see them invent demons. You see them wear colourful clothes. You note that their curiosity makes them study everything—other animals, sea, landscapes, stars, and so on. Different human kingdoms in different parts of the world do things differently. You feel like you cannot keep up. You witness it all. You find yourself become the timeless hoary timekeeper here. You remember it all. You lie in wait. You observe.

You see a few humans embark on long sea voyages in their giant ships. You remember that these lands have changed significantly and that the gap between them is very large. But that doesn’t seem to stop the humans. They go over great distances to trade. Some humans have started to fight the locals instead of trading. They find their weapons much more sophisticated than the lands they visited, and with the help of these, they start enslaving these humans. They see the skin colour differences and think that those with darker skins are inferior to them. You cannot help but chuckle at their ignorance.

  • Would it surprise you to know that even some of those so-called lovers of truth—the philosophers—also failed to see this? Well, I’m telling you. That’s the way it was!

You see them build huge factories and produce lots of goods and items. You see them take more and more from the earth and dump more and more. You see them commit mass violence on these local people. You have no option but to witness. You don’t understand how the pioneers of the planet have become destroyers. You lie in wait. You observe.

You see large nations engage in war and kill countless living organisms, both humans and non-humans. You see that the harmony that they intended is no longer there. You see them raid and pillage. You see them kill and bury. You see them shoot and bomb. You see that eventually after so much bloodshed, things have come to an end. Humans have started to draw boundaries around their kingdoms. Not that these were new, but that their rigidity is new; the rigidity is now enforced by other boundaries. Boundaries lost their fluidity and became fixed. You do not understand the need for that, but you continue to hover over and see it all. Amid all this, the harmony with which things in nature have always been begun to shift. You know that change is inevitable, but the pace at which it happens drives natural forces to behave erratically. This was dubbed climate change by some learned humans. You see that the number of humans who move great distances due to conflicts and climate change have become huge. You have always seen that movements have caused their lives to get better and so you are happy that they will be fine. Your head spins (figuratively). You lie in wait. You observe.

  • I assure you this is how things happened, reader. I’m not rushing with my narration. The last few million years we saw gradual, steady changes and then a dizzying ride in a very short span.

With rigidities in boundary-making and border control came rigid rules. These rules decide who can enter and who cannot. You are furious. You want to scream the way humans do. You who have seen it all think about their history; you are disappointed that they fail to recognise their deep connection to movement; disappointed that all that the humans ever knew was migration and yet they impose new arbitrary rules to stifle it. You want to tell them that restricting that is to deny their fundamental nature. But you cannot do anything. You know you are condemned to observe for eternity. As you notice, the humans behind that boundary allowed a few humans in but turn away most others. You find yourself hovering above a modern-day refugee camp. They have installed a wire fence and armed guards stood on the other side keeping many fleeing humans out. A massive violence was ongoing on the other side from which these people had managed to flee. But they were not let in. They were told to go back home. They were threatened and told that if they tried to cross, they would be killed. Whichever way they move, they will get killed. With no choice, some try to climb the fence and die in the process. Some go back and get killed. Some just set up camps outside the fence. You see the commotion, you feel their pain, you hear the helpless screams of many desperate children. You listen to the lamentations of the grown-ups. You want to do something; you want to push the fence away and move them to safety. You cannot help but lie in wait. You cannot help but observe.

  • You are all of us, condemned with the knowledge; all of us who can see the absurdities of borders and yet cannot do anything. We have become the immortal spirit that sees and knows everything but lacking power, we are doomed to lie in wait; doomed to observe. Knowing all this, dear reader, what would you change if you had the means?

  • ~ Not the end ~

In the final analysis, we are all migrants, armed with a temporary residence permit for this Earth, each and every one of us incurably transient.

— Gazmend Kapllani, A Short Border Handbook (2010)