The Theatrical Asylum of Immigration
Shadowed tolerance gives rise to a sordid affair by means of which we display the truth that never was.
Archaic belief suggests that an asylum is a place of retreat and security, a shelter for the indigent. This word has developed a very different perspective and is replaced by a form of ourselves so emotionally devoured that it comes out in odd forms as if nothing untoward goes on below. Immigrants, hence, seek and have sought this asylum from yesteryears, before the term ‘liberal movement’ was coined. Whether immigration is a boon or bane is not for one person to decide, but, from where we stand, acceptance is the very last apprehension. As one who belongs to the millennial generation, I stand observant of the world that passes by and bring to you this Theatrical Asylum of Life.
We seek to remove the middle-men of sentiments as we move towards a forbearing society, regarding the cross-border brethren with open arms yet closed minds. Man, it seems, is a puppet in the hands of the community, so anguished to please social despots that even their definition of tolerance is filled with woolly faffs and eternal know-hows. No migrant feels like they belong even after breathing in an eon within a country; the facade to bring forth this for the greater good, thus, becomes them.
A Pasquinade of Errors
With the coming of ideas behind ‘Globalisation,’ the very core of what we thought it would define is ebbing away with the large-scale displacement of our various forms and, instead of feeling empathy for our fellow beings, we feel remorse for ourselves but keep it hidden beneath a receding false interior. We have become personal news broadcasters, blaring into the very minuscule of details with the hunger to gain traction at the expense of ‘How refugees and their sorrows will earn me an Emmy.’ Lives are displayed for consensual auction on the media-market so aggressively that the essence of free-flow has been tarnished, time and time again.
Migration has always been regarded as a form of self-sustenance where, when one land is chiselled off its most valued ideals, the time comes to imbibe more from across paths. Countless encounters with each transgression only make the belief stronger that every man has the makings of a yearning being far from the sea of tranquillity. We yearn to learn ten different languages, we yearn to meddle with cultures beyond our understanding and we yearn to travel far away from reality.
Hell Hath No Fury Like a Country Scorned
An open border is a concept that is thought to help bring forth the best brotherhood within the very citizens it asks to make more room for. But does the layman understand the dearth of this situation or do their sore thumbs perpetually find its way into a pungent mood? I wouldsay a little bit of both. It is not like each motherland plots to be rid of her children in the nastiest of moods, be it an economic crisis or civil wars. Commanders of a social psychological imp gather enough power to put up with the thought of a free border only up to a point where they are portrayed in the light of generosity; thus, each one of us acts as society’s marionette, doing away with logical reasoning to make our own mark.
Take, for instance, the largest western power, the U.S. of A, the Mighty Eagle’s humble abode, et al, was once the most permissive country with immigrants crossing its generous borders, left to right and centre. Setting up shop was as easy as lighting a cigarette on a windy morning. However, all that seems to have come undone. Even though the world sits and watches an unjust treatment ensue, we only stick to our words because humanity, in this case, is counted only as mouths to feed and financial burdens to cope with. The warmth of each body is written off as leeches suckling on the teat that is not theirs, eventually igniting a juvenile vexation.
The attribute that sparks such a fire is ‘rage.’ Rage is the new black. ‘Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law’ is undertaken figuratively where a statement made by any political leader becomes a rage-citation. I wonder, since when did man become a creature so flammable that a small flick of our hair ignites a governmental tantrum? Do we really live in a world where an ‘Open Border’ is such a negative idea? Because, eventually, we grow up. We exist. We understand. We empathise. We see clarity, a clarity that was hovered over a baseless hue and cry. Hence, we settle for a greater intelligent version of ourselves. Practicality.
But this is a cathartic release, one where we mend our mind to believe the eradication of degrading another national citizen has happened. At the end of it all, immigration strengthens a tolerant masquerade.