Mother India. The original home of the Roma – Part one

By: Misha Bakic

On Friday 24th of November 2017, I was brutally attacked and brutally beaten up by a group of racial hooligans. They were beating me all over my body and especially in the area of my face and mouth and as a consequence of the attack I was bruised all over my body and I had severe bleeding on my lips and mouth. That night I ended up in the hospital where I did all of the tests and praise God that none of my bones were broken and that my jaw remained whole, which is truly a miracle. A few days after it and here I am still bleeding and the most normal things in life such as eating and drinking are incredibly painful for me. This is such a stressful time not only to me but to my whole family who suffers, probably even more than I do. And the question I keep asking is why? Why? Why would somebody do something like this to me? Unfortunately, the answer is very simple, it is because I am Roma.

My desire in writing this is really not to present myself as a victim or victimize myself. I do not blame a whole nation for what has happened to me. I have many Serbian friends, who are almost like a family to me and who are wonderful people.

“The reason why I’m writing this is because I want to write about a very deep soul-need that exists in every Roma person who cries out for justice and protection”

When the hooligans were done beating me, I turned my head toward the heaven. Then I looked at my attackers and with blood pouring out of my mouth I raise my voice toward the heaven. From the top of my voice, I cried out WHY? Why have you done this to me? What did I do to you to deserve this? Why did you beat me?

For a moment there was a complete silence and they were really shocked that I asked this question. They walked away in silence. Totally broken in my body and in my spirit I turned away and came back to my house. Why? Why? Is this ever going to stop? Is somebody going to raise his voice and stop all of this hatred and prejudice? This question comes from the depth of our Roma soul, this is what I wanted to write about.

From the dawn of time, there is no other phrase that describes the pain in the Roma inner being, the pain of the Roma soul, the injustice that has been done to the Roma people through the centuries it is called – Mother India.

Whenever the Roma people would go through persecution, nationalistic and racial hatred, broken in their body, soul and spirit from hard and offensive words, gas chambers and guns in their foreheads as well as fists that would hit them all over their bodies, people would gather all the last atoms of their strength, would raise their hands to the sky and would cry out OH MOTHER INDIA. OH MOTHER INDIA! OH MOTHER INDIA! MOTHER INDIA

And there is nothing in the world that can describe the total brokenness, humiliation and rejection of the Roma. The cry OH MOTHER INDIA says it all. It is as if I can hear the voice of my people who have walked through the corridors of history crying out OH MOTHER INDIA, we don’t have our own land and where ever our feet walk, we are told that we do not belong there and that we are strangers in a strange land. OH MOTHER INDIA. The green trees and the leaves falling down whisper to us that the land that feeds us doesn’t want us.

OH MOTHER INDIA, we came out of you but we are not in you or with you. OH MOTHER INDIA. You have abandoned and left behind your children. OH MOTHER INDIA, Will you stretch out your hand and protect your little baby or give him into the mercies of others? OH MOTHER INDIA, can you see the tears running down from your child’s face because his mother had abandoned him?

OH MOTHER INDIA, can you hear the scream of the motherless children while the history of humanity stamps upon them with hatred and prejudice?

OH MOTHER INDIA, Will you ever send us the Messiah, our Saviour who will save us and lead us into our promised land, the land of milk and honey? The land that will give water to the thirsty soul of the motherless children? The land in which a river of justice flows, that will bring healing through grace and justice? The land in which the trees fruit will heal the physical wounds of the body? The land in which the sky will the rain grace and will overflow the spirit and the soul of those who belong nowhere? The land in which the dust in the rocks will tell us that we belong there and in which we may find our eternal peace?

Will we ever find our promised land? Is there a hope for a Roma soul? Is there hope for us…?

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