On my way to asylum
desh Balasubramaniam x Kathleen Gonzalez x Sebastian Avila
The journey of asylum and its consequences for one’s identity are often spoken of silence and written on water.
date completed
15 May 2011
Project Team
Artistic director, producer & poetry, desh balasubramaniam
Concept development, Kathleen Gonzalez, Jesus Requena & desh balasubramaniam
Dancer, Kathleen Gonzalez
Actors, Sandesh balasubramaniam, Muhindan & Avi Wanono
Music, Jesus Requena
Vocals, Haran Thanabalasingam
Sculptor, Karleena Mitchell
Scenographer, Avi Wanono
Videography, Sebastian Avila
OUTPUT
Dance, music, poetry, vocals and sculpture
MEDIa & PRess
Partners
Project Synopsis
Fleeing your country of origin due to devastating circumstances such as war or violence in search of asylum can be one of the hardest experiences one has to face in life. Leaving behind the familiar is not easy; one has no choice but to forge ahead on an unknown journey and persist in the face of adversity. The road ahead comes with many challenges and can take years to adjust to a new way of living; a new way of being. In extreme cases it can lead to the loss of life itself. Leaving the place you call home which is often the only place you have ever known can fill your identity and abode with many scars. The journey of fleeing your country and the impact it has on one’s identity are often spoken in silence and written on water.
Ondru presented an intimate interpretation of the poem ‘On my way to asylum’. The poem tells the story of a personal journey of asylum that has been brought to life through dance, music, poetry, vocals and sculpture. It was first performed at Rhythm & Rights organised by Human Rights Arts & Film Festival (HRAFF) on 15 May 2011. ‘On my way to asylum’ was performed again on Sunday 14th August 2011, 4:30pm at Break the Silence by A-TS.
Poetry by desh Balasubramaniam, a personal reflection of the writer's own journey
On my way to asylum
script of my memoirs, I find
on unlined pages
rear of a novel I read years ago
written with blood of my own
photographs in black and white and burnt edges
smell of ash
brittle memory of a life buried beneath
an affair with question
never leaves the bed
mind hangs on a barbwire fence
commas turned to colons
showing clear breaks
story with a struggle for breath
born on a tear of Indian ocean
without a nation for some years
covering the scars with silent of eyes
crawling on bare knees,
broken body of words and a weightless bag
arrive here in the cold
with and without will
searching a new beginning
my drawn hand to greet the horizon
