‘People were very foolish; they did not know that those who leave never return again. Even if the man who had got lost returned, he would no longer be the person who had left. His body and feet would be covered in the dust and grime, and whorls of filth, of many pathways, which was called memory, or experience, or maturity, which would constantly impede his return to the former position.
The third and final part of this powerful trilogy brings forth themes that have echoed throughout the previous two books. The distinction between a refugee and a migrant is starkly highlighted in Manoranjan Byapari’s final instalment. The migrants still hold agency, whether moving out of choice or force, but the definition of refugees is far more complex, as their movement is rarely voluntary; external forces drive them. They are not in control. In this novel, on one hand, we have refugees who are struggling to understand where they are and trying to carve a space for themselves in an unwelcoming world. On the other, we have migrants who have forcibly inserted themselves into the narrative space; whether that space welcomes them or not, they are here to stay. The differences between the two are made glaringly evident and captured skilfully through the novel’s characters.