I travelled to Kathmandu in December 2014 for my field work to understand the migration journey ofÂ Â Nepali workers to Qatar.Â After a fewÂ initial protocols, I was floodedÂ with thoughts of their aspirations, apprehensions and reasons for migration.Â Following is an attempt toÂ summarize theÂ experience of a migrant’sÂ state of mindÂ throughout his journey of unexpected ups and downs.
As I stand at the door,
trying to gather all the memories,
giving away all the love the heart pours,
a father reports for his duty.
A different world of demand and supply,
but I just left with a hope to fly.
A dream comes true for I had no money,
sponsored by a friend who asks me not
Played along this game of trust,
for I had no other option,
no government to help, no farms to plough,
What to do? I just wanted those smiles to grow.
The cool breeze and the beaming lights,
so far it wasÂ a city of delights,
Buried the Nepali coins in my wallet,
I thought now was the time for Riyal.
Little did I know of the rules,
but soon it was just about the tools,
Following the routine from four to four,
A bunker bed, alcohol and a flock of friends in the end.Â
I wait for my return,
Fulfilling their needs with all what I
Afraid of my nationâ€™s stagnant reign,
Would there be a flight to catch again?