Memories of the Kuwait War~Chapter 10~ No Man’s Land!

Picture courtesy: Google

It didn’t take much long since our first comfort break that day. We actually were already into the territory of Iraq. As it was the country that had attacked us, I was constantly afraid that we would be in some sort of trouble as we travel through to Amman. I sat looking out, thinking of Kuwait. I remembered how for the first time, as we neared the border earlier that day, I felt a deep sort of attachment to Kuwait, which until then was a dry land that always made me want to run away to India. I even tried to look back through the window to catch one last glimpse of the country I never realized I belonged to.

The trip through Iraq was uneventful and some sights were quite strange to me. I clearly remember seeing a road sign that said ‘Baghdad’ (which is the capital of Iraq) in the middle of the desert, LITERALLY!! It was on the side of the wide tarred road we were on. To the left and right of the road was nothing but sand, plain soft golden sand extending all the way to the horizon. “Seriously, this can’t be Baghdad!”, I thought, “a capital and all they have is a road? No way! Maybe that’s why they wanted to seize Kuwait?” It made no sense to me. “Or do they mean Baghdad is the next approaching city (as if we were through multiple cities so far)”, I thought with scorn! 

As per plan we were not supposed to go through the mainland, just the desert territory to reach our destination. A while later, we came to a thinly occupied market place. Thinking of it now, I can say it closely resembles the market place in the Malayalam movie ‘Daya’, only that there weren’t as many shops or as much merchandize. Few large sized concrete rectangular cubes, almost the same colour as the sand, with an open side facing the road, with some of them having things like dates, blankets and some dried lemon (I think), and a ‘shopkeeper’ for each unit. No customers, though. That was about it! 

It was hot and tiring as well, I slowly slipped into a siesta, only to wake up to the sight of a rather red and fiery sky. It was dusk and the sky looked beautifully washed in varying shades of crimson. Appealing as it was, it somehow spread a sort of gloom, like some messenger telling me, ‘Here I am, drawing down the curtains on one era of your life’. 

Looking ahead, I could see camping tents in the distance, with a tall wired fence running around the area, and that was where we were headed. It was starting to feel chilly as the sky began to darken. We soon reached the wired compound and alighted the bus. Oooh! It was windy and really cold, as if winter had suddenly set in. We were shaking like leaves when Amma covered us with thick towels and a scarf, which were the only things she could grab at that moment. We did carry some winter clothes, but not much was within reach as the rest of our belongings were stowed away somewhere in the bus compartment among all the other pieces of luggage. When my Social Studies teacher said that ‘Deserts have extreme climate’, I didn’t quite expect this much. I was almost frozen I could hardly feel my nose.

We had to wait there outside for quite a bit when my father had gone to report our attendance, and find out with the volunteers which of the tents were allotted to us. “We could have waited in the bus, no?”, was my question. But the buses had all gone off to some parking spot after dropping us inside the gates as per the instructions given to them. Time seemed to drag along with us waiting for Acha to come back, and when I almost thought I will die of the cold, I saw him come. “We have one night’s halt here. Our tent is right over there”, he signaled with eyes over his shoulder, while taking my sister onto his shoulders, relieving my mother for a bit. All throughout the journey the poor child, still in pain from her injury, was cranky, which made my mother so tired. 

I being an ‘imaginator’, would always have vivid pictures of all the descriptions and explanations in class. I was with Tom Sawyer painting his fence, I was in jail with Dantes and since I couldn’t swim, I rowed a boat instead, while he swam beside me until we reached Monte Christo. Well, that was the kind of ‘crazy' dreamer I was. Similarly, I had imagined myself living, or at least sleeping in a tent. We quickly reached the tent which was more or less like I imagined, only a bit downgraded. Each tent was close to the other and had thick dark green cloth/canvas. There were lights outside, not so bright though. There was nothing much to cover the hard floor which was full of stones and poky things, except a small mat of some sort. “Be here while I go get our luggage”, Acha said and left towards the buses with Thampi Pappa. We sat snuggling up on that ‘mat’ waiting for Acha to come back. It was still cold, but not windy so that was a huge relief.

“We will stay here only for a day, then? After that what happens, Amma? Do we go to India tomorrow?”, I asked my mother. “Hahaha, how we wish!”, came the reply from a familiar voice outside our tent. I looked up with surprise to see Prasad uncle! Prasad uncle was from Mavelikara too. We lived in the same area, just a couple of buildings apart when in Kuwait, went to the same church, and his daughter Mili was my close friend. “Wow! Mili!”, I cheerfully got up to greet my friend and family who happened to be occupying the adjacent tent. Then what followed was an interval of chit chats and happy chatter. I was happy to see my friend and her family. 

That’s when I came to know that we are not in Amman, but somewhere close between the border of Iraq and Jordan, in a place called No Man’s Land, because literally that stretch belonged to no man ( as in country!). I heard Prasad uncle say, and Acha too, when he joined us with the luggage, that hopefully we start out to Amman in a day’s time, and be there until we get to leave on our flight from Jordan to India. Shortly after, we got some food, which was served in packets by the volunteers. Somewhere at one end there was a huge cauldron with tea brewing, I heard Prasad uncle say. I think the men went and had some tea, and also brought back some for us. 

Soon it was time for bed, not that there was much entertainment to stay awake for! Amma spread a lungi of Acha’s on the mat, and the 5 of us lied down as close as we could to each other, for two reasons....to make sure that nobody had to sleep on the bare ground, and also to keep each other warm. We weren’t carrying any blankets, but Amma used a Kashmiri shawl to somehow cover us all. I slept hugging my brother tight. “I miss our room and my bed, Chechi”, he said. “Me too”, I replied in a shivering voice, drawing him closer to me, slowly rubbing his back. The cold didn’t stop us....We slowly drifted off into a peaceful slumber. It was a long and tiring trip, after all!

~priya~