M.G.

Vassanjo Refugee
The recent rerouting of the postcolonial canon to include diaspora theory and literature
from settler colonies presents a productive challenge for English departments:
diaspora’s awkward categorization as a geographical subset of postcolonial studies,
alongside area literatures (‘South Asian’, ‘African’, etc.), highlights the limitations of
national categories. The significance of this diasporic graft has been noted in the recent
addition of ‘diaspora’ to The Postcolonial and Postimperial Literature and Culture Web
site and in the subsection on diaspora in the new chapter ‘Re-Thinking the Post-Colonial’
in the 2002 edition of The Empire Writes Back.

If one were to read M. G. Vassanji’s short story ‘Refugee’ (1992) as paradigmatic for the
liberating potential of diasporic movement, the position between nations of the
protagonist, Karim, would simply represent the possibility for thinking outside of the
nation-state paradigm and the importance of crossing boundaries in pursuit of non-
essentializing identities. Yet the picture that emerges from Karim’s constant ‘routing’ is
not hopeful. The state of limbo Karim most often finds himself in is characterized by a
sense of shame at what he feels is a betrayal of his home, of his family, and of himself.
In transit, he is extremely uncomfortable with himself, seeing himself in the mirror and
realizing that he is ‘dressed all wrong’, that he stands out ‘like a sore thumb’, and that
he is ‘shrunken and small in this strange, alien environment’. Having come from a small
town, he has been uprooted and thrown into the disorienting world of global travel and
feels ‘crowded and without meaning’ when faced with questions about his legal status.
One of the reasons why he feels this way is because he cannot maintain a sense of
integrity about who he is and where he has come from. The effects of popular culture
and colonial myths on Karim’s self-image are also closer to the heart of Vassanji’s story:
Karim’s careful attempts to blend in have gone to waste as he realizes that the western
styles he picked up from the media are no longer chic . The shame he feels that his
culture, family, and country have been unable to prepare him for this modern place is
debilitating. He is consistently interpreting this new world through the lenses of
television shows, movies, and stories he has consumed from the West, and these lenses
turn out to be taken from glasses that have been discarded by the western world he
encounters. He uses expressions that are outdated; sees a man who walks ‘like cowboys
walk in movies’ and so feels like the ‘Indian’ who is hunted, primitive, and evil;
interprets a German civilian as if he were a villain in a spy movie; and worries that he
might meet a ghost or a vampire and be murdered . He lives in a half fictional, half
historical reality that has been made into entertainment by western storytellers and
finds that his earnestness makes him seem outdated in the world of global travel. Thus
questions of ongoing colonial influence and the legitimacy of supranational
organizations such as the UN Refugee Agency make this story less about an enchanting
ex-centric character and more about the unevenness of contemporary global
movement. The key texts in diaspora theory are optimistic, but their portrait of the
‘exile’ or refugee is somewhat troubling. In some cases not only are the crucial
distinctions between forced and voluntary exile collapsed, but ‘the refugee’ (definite
article) seems to be dangerously close to becoming a general metaphor and figurehead
for the postmodern condition of migrancy. The short story Refugee the narrator
presents a synoptic, sociopolitical report: "There was a time, not many years ago, when
a bread cart would go creaking down Uhuru Street, pulled by one man in front, pushed
by another at the back.
http://ebinsliterature.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-door-i-shut-behind-
me-uma.html

http://researchscholar.co.in/downloads/66-disha-khanna.pdf

Door I Shut Behind Me Uma

Parameswaran
Uma Parameswaran is a retired professor of English, University of Winnipeg; has
published extensively in the field of postcolonial literatures; and is the author of several
works of fiction, poetry and drama.

The door I shut behind me is a short story by Uma Parameswaran. The title of the short
story reminds the Indian tradition of a bride leaving her parents’ home forever after
marriage. The story explains an Indian leaving his country to become a possible
immigrant in Canada. The simile is very apt as both the situation involves crossing over
to a new life; this crossing over involves fear and uncertainty coupled with hope and
desire.

The story opens with Chander, the protagonist, flying to Canada on a two year research
associate ship, at an annual salary of $ 8500. Agarwal, the crude and loud fellow
passenger who doesn’t have an immigrant visa feels envious of Chander. Agarwal
appears to be a perfect portrait of an ugly person. The writer has analyzed the mindset
of an average Indian who goes abroad, his obsession with money and savings as well as
his dreams of luxury and comfort.

Agarwal criticize everything western. He says “our toilet habits are much cleaner”. For
him the westerners are far behind in their appreciation of arts. The writer portraits the
class of Indians, who criticizes the west and its culture, yet wants to stay abroad, earn
money and lead a life of comfort and luxury.

Chander finds that Agarwal is nostalgic for his country and wanted to be with his own
people and speak his own language. They visits Mundra’s house. Agarwal greeted every
one with warm enthusiasm, but Chander was unable to do so. The people gathered
were from different parts of India, but the language they spoke was English. They were
all proud of speaking English.
They question of identity, whether they are Indians or Canadians, entangled them. They
had not changed their food habits, their costumes. They wanted to go back, but like the
mythological king Trihishanku, they stood suspended between two worlds, unable to
enter either.

The story says when we leave our country we shut many doors behind us though we are
not aware of it at the time. Chander replies “There are many doors ahead of us”. The
story thus ends on a note of hope for the future. Uma Parameswaran endorses a
positive approach; if people decide s to adopt another country to live in; they must not
look back but look forward with hope.

Being oscillating between the two worlds, Chander felt perplexed and completely
shattered and thought that the Indo-Canadians have been neither of Here nor of Away.
They never fully acknowledged either of the cultures and are suspended between two
backgrounds and double existence. Finally, towards the end of the story, both are sailing
in the same boat of heaviness and nostalgia. Suddenly, Chander was captivated by a
pale, short statured man of thirty- six, named Harish Bahl, who possessed an artistic
bent of mind. But very soon the excitement went into vain when Chander got
acquainted that this Indian origin man had wedded a Canadian woman. Chander now
loathed the reception of Western culture.

“I don’t expect here to be long and wanted to pick up some experience and go back
home ”.

The sense of rootlessness popped up a resilient urge inside Chander to return to his
homeland. He felt indicted and qualms if he was abandoning India, when the country
desires him the most, if, in a way, he is contributing to the brain-drain. Upon this Harish
Bahl pronounced that this had been a habitual cry of all the beginners and immigrants.
But very spontaneously and smartly, the nostalgic fever vanishes from Chander and he
turns out to be a rational human being. This age is the age of individualism, and not of
abstract ideologies of patriotism and nation-building . Now, the immigrated land,
Canada holds a strong attraction for him. Nearly towards the end, Bahl proclaims When
we leave our country, we shut many doors behind us though we are not aware of it at
that time (149). Chander impromptu replied to the aforesaid declaration, “There are
many doors ahead of us” . The author is critical of both men and women and especially
about their appearances and behavior and how Chander the narrator is ashamed of
being recognized as an Indian and his Indian identity. He is frustrated with their
common behavior and yet he feels guilty about the way he sees them. The author shows
that a man can cry although it is more melodramatic than real. Branding women as fat
and subverting the image of the proverbial title of the drama queen to men can be seen
as symbolic. Even the narrators tear depicts the image of me who have a kind a heart a
quality that is generally related to women.

Uma Prameswaran’s diasporic reading, The Door I Shut Behind Me culminates with a
contemporary petition for today that we are not merely restrained to our realm but
cogitate the integral world as a solo family. The story portrays an exemplary
representation of an immigrant experience, their connection to the homeland as well as
their feeling of estrangement and rootlessness.
https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?
doi=10.1.1.922.6902&rep=rep1&type=pdf
https://www.commonlit.org/en/texts/montreal-1962

Shauna Singh Baldwin “Montreal 1962”

Shauna Singh Baldwin (born 1962) is a Canadian-American novelist of Indian descent.
"Montreal 1962" is from her book of short stories English Lessons and Other Stories. In
this short story, a Sikh woman who has recently come to Canada with her husband
describes washing his turbans. In the Sikh religion, men often wear turbans and grow
their hair long but his turban is proving to be a drawback, as no one will hire him
because of it. The turban is imbued with more symbolism than I can convey in this short
summary – the link between past and present, ancestors and younger generations,
there and here, wife and husband, etc. As the wife carefully and lovingly performs the
chore of washing, she makes the promise that she will never let her husband “cut [his]
strong rope of hair and go without a turban into this land of strangers”, in what is,
ultimately, a love letter.
“Montreal 1962” is written in first and second person, as a wife alternates between
washing her husband’s turbans and mentally conversing with him. Baldwin holds her
reader’s attention through articulate and emotive language, which gives her readers
clear visions of Indian culture. For instance, in “Montreal 1962,” Baldwin describes a
woman dressing in her husband’s turban: “I wound it swiftly, deftly, till it jutted
haughtily forward, adding four inches to my stature. “ Baldwin works to share Indian
culture with the world through English Lessons and Other Stories. More importantly,
this text endeavors to give voice to the varied experiences of Indian women.
Singh Baldwin notes that her ‘‘parents’ experience in Canada was the inspiration for
‘Montreal 1962’’’ (Singh Baldwin 1999, x).11 Appearing originally in Hum and Fireweed,
‘‘Montreal 1962’’ is set against the backdrop of more open Canadian immigration
criteria that encouraged white- and blue-collar professionals to migrate to Canada. The
chronologically specific title of the story signals the importance of the date in Canadian
immigrant history. ‘‘Montreal 1962’’ is embedded in a time period when ethnicity and
race were supposedly considered to be less important than education and skills.
Anthropologists Buchignani and Indra note,
Sikh immigrants of the 1960s and early 1970s were predominantly highly skilled, this
reflecting the total elimination by the mid-1960s of all national, cultural, racial, and
religious discrimination from the immigration regulations and their replacement by a
selection system stressing substantial educational and occupational qualifications.
However, ‘‘Montreal 1962’’ is the story of the promise betrayed of a multicultural
Canada and the stinging disillusionment and racism encountered by a Sikh husband who
is told that he will be welcomed at his new workplace as soon as he cuts his hair and
sheds his turban. As she proudly and defiantly washes, dries, and folds her husband’s
turbans, a young wife recounts the affront to culture and her husband’s masculinity. She
seethes
This was not how they described emigrating to Canada. I still remember them saying to
you, ‘‘You’re a well-qualified man. We need professional people.’’ And they talked about
freedom and opportunity for those lucky enough to already speak English. No one said
then, ‘‘You must be reborn white-skinned-and clean-shaven to show it—to survive.’’ Just
a few months ago, they called us exotic new Canadians, new blood to build a country

The turban, which has historically borne the burden of masculine defiance to forcible
conversion by the Mughal rulers, becomes a symbol of resistance against erasure. If
‘‘Montreal 1962’’ is about disillusionment in diaspora, where the turban can be seen as
a symbol of both religious and female empowerment, ‘‘Family Ties,’’ the longest story in
the collection, deepens the disillusionment with the dogmas of religion and certain
notions of masculinity. The innocent, child perspective of the narrator is at odds with
the violence around her and she has two options—to either become a passive victim like
her aunt or to stop being ‘‘a silly little kukri, a hen instead of a Sikhni of our family of
whom he [the father] can be proud’’

"Then we will have taught Canadians what it takes to wear a turban."For the narrator's
husband to wear a turban, he must put up with the ignorance and discrimination he
encounters from those who do not understand why he does it. The process of washing
the turbans is laborious, but the narrator does it with joy because of her pride in their
heritage.