Nostalgically Displaced

by Nemat Ahangosh

A house made with love of parents collapses after 18 years Even in the small pieces you can see the hands that built it The memories remain under piles of mud and wood So many days have passed sometimes those memories ache

Yet it’s all nostalgia Like the old black-and-red cassette player With its messy tapes Shakila singing to us “young age is passing and you don’t appreciate it”

What’s left of this big family Only these lines And some old photos of wide happy mouths

In the collapsed house melancholy Iranian music made our happy hearts bleed Small sibling fights and happy moments Oh how bittersweet! Who knew one day we would be as far as the music foresaw Who knew we would be just a word ‘migrants’

Never returning to the small village Living somewhere no one knew existed and the music would be dead The empty spaces colonized by memories watch us through sad melodies in the house made with love of parents Powered by sun until the gentle breeze of war unpacked our family blew us away simply and painfully

About the author: Nemat Ahangosh, originally from Ghazni, Afghanistan, is now based in England and works in public libraries across Brighton & Hove. He also founded Stretch More, a charity registered with the Charity Commission for England and Wales that supports disabled people in disasters through inclusive initiatives. He completed an MA in Conflict, Security and Development at the University of Sussex. In his free time, he enjoys reading and writing poetry.

Editors note: We are publishing three of Nemat’s poems this week in honor of Refugee Week. This is what the Refugee Week’s website says: “Refugee Week brings together people from different backgrounds to connect beyond labels, and foster a deeper understanding of why people are displaced, and the challenges they face when seeking safety. This year the theme is courage. For refugees around the world, courage is often a daily necessity. It is the courage to face unknown journeys, learn new languages, navigate unfamiliar systems, or simply to wake up each morning and step into an uncertain world.” https://refugeeweek.org/