Irfan, the name I feared to hear. The name my father gave me. The name that meant to be thankfulness. The name that shall make me die if heard by the people. I had no clue of my whereabouts, I was in the refugee boats supplied by the European Union, left the land of terror but being dumped under 50 men made no difference to my being. Just the lack of oxygen and no light of the sky that seemed dead to me. I didn’t know where my father was, my mother was taken up by the flare of the terror, all that’s left of my decent was my name, Irfan and the stories in my head from the Quran. My name was to die if I got the chance to breathe in the air again on the European soil, the man strictly called out that no Muslim shall board the boat.
My father never came to the boat, for that we had to cut the sacred form of the beard and he believed that religion should be accompanied by the sense of pride. I left him and I have no reason to as why I left the surface on fire to die in this place.
No light, no food, numbness to adhere and a void of pain. I was 19, lived in the crisis and hoped to suffocate to death as soon as possible. The weight of the men above disappeared soon after my body went numb, I don’t know how many days had passed and how much more to come till I die or breathe with a different identity. If Allah wishes so. If Allah wishes so.
I opened my eyes in a refugee camp and thanked Allah for my life, but it seemed the void had captured my breath forever until now, that I write this to you, sir, I am not Aadesh, My name is Irfan and I might get forced out of the arts centre if the name is disclosed. I opted to come to literature because The Quran made me believe in the whole world as a unit that adheres to Allah or God.
Life has been broken so far and I had no jigsaw puzzle to replicate a meaning that I could write about, but this is all I have. Irfan will always be thankful to Allah, no matter if the void exists with me forever. Literature is the only sweet essence I have experienced so far in life and I shall be dealing with the same to help me with the entire scenario.
I am looking forward to learning more about this world and I had to tell someone about my journey and the loss of identity.
If Allah Wishes So, Aadesh and Irfan will always be the one person who writes this mail.
Your new student,