This book, then, is my attempted tribute to a generation of quiet heroes on either side of the border, who silently bore the brunt of a cataclysmic rupture in their lives. A generation that wordlessly erased its past and gave their all to building our future. And most strikingly, a generation who, despite everything they had been through, harboured no malice. Maybe because they had seen first-hand that there were no ‘good’ and ‘bad’ people. That, alternatively, the aggressors had also been the victims. That an eye for an eye did indeed make us blind, and easier to manipulate by those whom it suited.

In these tumultuous times, as the world gets alarmingly less tolerant, we might do well to take a leaf from their book—to seek out what we share rather than what divides us and not hand history the chance to repeat itself.

I’d like to think that perhaps this story chose me to allow me a chance to make amends, in some small way, for not finding the words, when I should have.

I hope these words do make a difference to someone, somewhere.

Bibliography

Pratchett, Terry. A Hat Full of Sky. London: Corgi Childrens, 2005.

Saint-Exupéry, Antoine de. The Little Prince. San Diego: Harcourt, Inc., 2000.

Pratchett, Terry. Sourcery. New York City: Harper, 2008.

Turow, Scott. Ordinary Heroes. New York City: Warner Books, 2005.

Dunn, Stephen. Here and Now: Poems, New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2011

Mercier, Pascal. Night Train to Lisbon, trans. Barbara Harshav, 2007

United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). ‘The State of The World’s Refugees 2000: Fifty Years of Humanitarian Action’. Last accessed 11 October 2019. https://www.unhcr.org/3ebf9bab0.pdf.

Acknowledgements

I have no idea why a particular story chooses us. Or why it
gets told when it does. I’ve come to believe that long before a story is born, the universe earmarks the people who will be involved in its telling; their paths then cross by exquisite design—and the pieces serendipitously fall into place when the stars align.

If you indulge my seemingly far-fetched drift, it doesn’t take a village—it takes a galaxy (with a publisher in it) to raise a story. And an author who shows up to write, day after day—hoping, against all odds, that the galaxy will also do its bit.

Luckily for me, the galaxy obliged. I have been ever so fortunate to cross paths with some incredibly special people who helped shape this book along the way. For which, I owe many grateful thanks.

To Pervin and Sean Mahoney, for their invaluable inputs and generous friendship. I must have done something truly wonderful to deserve having them in my corner.