영어 튜터링 받으면서 매주 에세이를 한편씩 쓰는데,
이번주에는 잉하에서 자극받아 처음으로 원서읽기 도전 후 소감을 써보았습니다.
에세이 제출 후 선생님께서 911 테러당시 추모식에 참가했던 경험에 대해 들려주시면서,
히잡을 쓴 여성의 티셔츠에 "Don't hate Muslims, Hate Terrorist"라고 쓰여진 것이 인상깊었다고 합니다.
소녀의 아름다운 문장들과 함께 우리에게는 생소했던 인도와 파키스탄 역사에 대해서도
배울 수 있었던 The night diary 추천합니다. 자세한 줄거리와 소감은 아래 글에 담겨있습니다.
After reading “The night diary”
There was a 12-year-old girl named Nisha in India in 1947. She lived with her grandmother Dadi, Papa, her younger brother Amil, and Kazi who helped with the housework. Her mother died when she delivered to Amil. She is missing her mother and writes a diary that starts with “Dear.mom” every night. But as India becomes independent from England, her night diaries became filled with moments resembling nightmares.
Why is India's independence, which she should be most proud of, causing her to leave her hometown? That's because the leaders decided that India would become two contries – India and Pakistan according to a different religion. Their town of Khas won't be in India. It'll be a part of a new country called Pakistan. After being bullied at school, neighborhood terror wounded Kazi, They decided to leave town.
“…Papa says that everyone is killing one another now, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs. Everyone is to blame. He says that when you separate people into groups, they start to believe that one group is better than another. I think about papa’s medical books and how we all have the same blood, and organs, and bones inside us, no matter what religion we’re supposed to be….”
Her beloved mother, best friend, and favorite Kazi, are all Muslims. As she says, regardless of religion, we are all the same people, and all religions pursue the same love.
“I used to think of people by their names and what they looked like, or what they did. Sahil sells pakoras on the corner. Now I look at him and think Sikh. My teacher, Sir Habib, is now my Muslim teacher. My friend Sabeen is happy and talks a lot. Now she’s my Muslim friend. Papa’s friend, Dr. Ahmed, is now a Muslim doctor. I think of everyone I know and try to remember if they are Hindu or Muslim or Sikh and who has to go and who can stay.”
On a journey across the border, Nisha grows mature. As she suffers from water shortages, she feels grateful for the delivery guy of water to her house. For the first time, she thinks about death. She comes to understand that Grandma and Dad have loved her all the time, and they just had different methods of expressions. And many questions she asks herself have been disturbing my head all the time. There are many questions I couldn't answer, such as why should people who were neighbors until a month ago kill each other simply because of different religions?
“Do we have to take a side?” I asked. “I think it’s safer. That way you know who your enemy is,” Amil said, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “But if we don’t take a side, then we don’t have any enemies.” “I don’t think it works that way,” Amil said.”
I didn't ask as many questions to myself as Nisha did. In various issues, there was a distance between what I knew and what I did. And I guess I just used to ignore it rather than make an effort to narrow it down. I know racism is wrong, but I had to understand that someone can hate me before they know me, just because of my skin color. Religion shouldn't be a reason for conflict, but I know it's better not to ask others about religion in conversation. I know it's natural to have various political ideologies, but when I was in the army I educated soldiers we have to conquer. North Korea because they are communist.
“Were we just at the mercy of leaders who couldn't agree?”
When people tried to kill each other in Nisha's journey, did they ever ask questions? Why did I have to fight my neighbor because of religion? Answering this question I was suddenly afraid that maybe I'm no different from any of them.
