REFUGEE

REFUGEE by Siv
“I am not a refugee. I am an immigrant.” Said ‘Anuradha’ that evening when British police came down to our work place and tried to verify our identity and immigrant status. This happened in the year 2003. But I have clear memories of that gory night haunting me till today.
‘Anuradha’ is a masculine name though it sounds as a feminine one in the Asian parlance. The incident dates back to the days when I was struggling to have a career of my own in London. I went on a valid work permit to Britain in that fateful year of 2003. A group of three police personnel raided our work place on probably receiving a tip that a lot of illegal immigrants along with quite a huge number of refugees were taking shelter and working in England in general and in London in particular. It was 10.00 PM and our working shift started a couple of hours ago at 8.00PM. The cops looked robust and ruthless. After all it was their duty to be so. There was no security person guarding our outfit. There in fact was not even an official signboard depicting our company logo and name. We all were busy with our work when we heard a big thud on the main entrance door. Even though we were inside the building which was a bit far away from the main door, the banging on the door was so loud that we all felt that there was some danger forthcoming as the knocking was not a common one but creating panic in the ears of our inmates’. Our supervisor Mr. Rajan sensed something wrong and approached the entrance with a bit of caution. He told us before proceeding to the main door
“Guys you be cool and don’t panic. Let me check what the issue is!”
Our colleague and next senior person to Mr. Rajan, Mr. Sri also followed him. We all kept silent and tried to be as composed as possible in that tense situation. We were eight people all in all working in that night shift. After a few seconds, three white cops and our own Rajan and Sri came inside. One of the cops said
“Guys, we guess you’re all the employees of this company, we would like to check your papers i.e. your immigration papers. Where’s your owner? Please get him or her so that we can verify your credentials. By the way do you have your passport, work permit and other documents handy? If yes show us the papers, we will verify and let you do your work. Otherwise call your boss, we will wait here till they turn up.”
“Don’t worry we are here to help you out and make your stay in our country a smooth one. A lot of illegal immigrants are taking shelter here. Some of them are having cover in the name of refugees, refugees without a granted asylum. That’s pretty illegal. Isn’t it?” another cop added.
We all kept quiet and worried as none of us had proper paper and immigrant status. We were very worried about the consequences of the raid by the cops. Rajan quickly gathered himself and said in broken English
“I call my boss Munaf sir. You wait.”
“That’s Ok. Please get him quickly as we need to inspect some other companies tonight. Make it fast,” the third cop thundered.
We stopped our work and Mr. Rajan went to our office room to make a call to our owner Munaf. Our friends and I were worried very much as none of us had valid papers with us as we were not supposed to work for this company legally. Though I had the work permit, it was issued by another company and their business operations were bare minimum. It was almost a defunct company by all means. My Visa was valid for another year but I was clearly caught off guard as I was working illegally for the company where I was performing the night duty. I started getting too tensed up and Mr. Rajan came back from the office room and said in a feeble voice
“My boss not speak phone. You came tomorrow, we show papers. My boss speak to you.”
The cops got pissed off at this response and they asked all of us to line up and show them whatever documents we had with us at that point of time. They started checking with each one of us. They started with Arayan.
“Where is your passport?” one cop thundered.
“Sorry, not have,” replied Arayan helplessly.
“Then go to a corner and stand,” ordered the cop.
“What about your papers?” Basith was asked.
“No sir,” was the meek reply from Basith. He too followed Aryan and stood in the corner. Next turn was Muralidharan’s. He too joined the first two guys. Then came my turn. I could speak reasonably fluent English. But I was very nervous as I was clearly guilty of working illegally.
“Where are your documents?” roared a cop.
“I do have a work permit in fact, but I don’t have it right now with me,” I mumbled.
“If you permit me I will show it to you tomorrow,” I added nervously.
If they see what I have with me as work permit, I would be straight away put under solitary confinement. I also soon joined the others in the corner which was meant for the culprits. Any way all of us were culprits except for maybe Anuradha! It was his turn now. You know pretty well what Anuradha said in the beginning itself? The cops continued to question him.
“I am a student here to pursue my masters in English literature. I do have all the legal papers and permits, but I don’t have right now with me. If you permit me I will produce them tomorrow,” he rather said confidently.
But the cops were merciless. They didn’t spare anyone of us including Anuradha. He was indeed on a student Visa to pursue his higher studies in one of the colleges in London. I was hailing from India and all the others were Tamils from Sri Lanka. The cops detained all of us and put us in a prison in London. We all had a lot of mental trauma. I guess it was more for Rajan and the other colleagues. They were all Tamil people from Sri Lanka. They had horrible conditions prevailing back home. They were all supporters and sympathizers of LTTE (Liberation of Tamil Tigers for Elam), if not the active members of the banned outfit by the Sri Lankan government.
Conditions back home were unbearable for the Tamils as there were no- jobs, proper homes and more importantly peace of mind. The army was looking at the minority Tamils suspiciously. In places like Jaffna, Trincomalee, Vavuniya and Batticaloa Tamils were residing densely. Youth in large numbers were recruited by LTTE. Many people from Sri Lanka (Tamils) flee to countries like France, Switzerland, Germany and other European countries and seek asylum there. Many countries look at them sympathetically and grant asylum. I came to know all these things as I was staying with Mr. Rajan as a paying guest. We were living in an apartment at Harrow, in London. In fact when I was deserted by the company which issued me the work permit to go to London, I was desperately looking for a job. I was actually supposed to work in the Software Industry as a programmer/Engineer. But the laws in Britain were very stringent. Only the company that issues the work permit can employ that person and nobody else can offer a job. I initially stayed with a group of Indians who were sailing in the same boat as I was and all of them were prepared to do odd jobs to support themselves. Some of them managed to earn jobs in restaurants, food stores etc. some others like me were struggling very hard to find a job. I managed at last to find a job in a cold storage in the Middlesex County.
The job was really tough. We had to work in the night shift. I had to carry big cartons of fruits and vegetables from one place to another in the storage. I worked there for nearly four months and reached a stage where I couldn’t continue anymore. At that point some body gave me a hint that at Wembly area in London, there was a company which hires people on a daily basis and the work would be comparatively easier. I tried my luck there. We had to stand in front of the company. The supervisor would come at around 8.00AM and hand pick some people form us for the day. The rest of the unlucky ones would go back disappointed. I had tough luck in the first two days as I was not picked. The third day proved lucky to me. I was picked for the day. Thus I worked there for two weeks. Some days I used to get picked for the job and other days not. It was tough at the apartment where we were staying. Roughly twelve people were staying where there was actual room for five or six. We had to share the cooking, cleaning work. I got exposed to people of different mindsets in the process. There would be a big queue in front of the rest rooms (we had two in the apartment). One guy who hailed from Chennai in India used to brush his teeth in the kitchen sink. It was unbearable for me. Once I politely told him not to do it and he picked a big quarrel with me. The eating habits also were a bit weird as people were form different parts of India. I was a pure vegetarian. Sometimes Dal was cooked with eggs in it. I could never relish that particular dish. Days were really tough. I was pulling on.
One day at my work place I found Rajan who came there in search of workers. He that day needed more workers as it was Christmas season and they had huge orders. I was picked by him and I gladly went with him to his company to work on that day. He liked me and my work and suggested that I should permanently work with them. I accepted his offer and continued to work there. The nature of work was a bit polished as we had to repair the audio and video CDs (Compact Discs), polish and pack them and keep ready for sending them to the clients. Eventually I moved into Rajan’s house as a paying guest. Two more of my colleagues were also staying with him. Both of them were from Sri Lanka. Rajan got married a few months ago and his wife Jiva Pali was from Chennai in India. My stay was comfortable there. The only difficulty was that Rajan asked me to work in night shifts as the bosses wouldn’t be there at that time and I could work freely and comfortably. We had to work from 8.00PM in the evening to 8.00 AM the next day. The work had to be done by standing in front of a polishing and repairing machine. Slowly I got used to it. Days were passing and a bolt from the blue came in the form of the raid by the cops that fateful night.
*
We were all put in the prison. Prosecution was to follow and if we were found guilty (that would happen any way for me), we would be deported to our respective countries. I was a little bit OK as my wife and the kid were living in India. Rajan and my other colleagues were very unsettled and disturbed. After all Rajan was a newly married man and they had nothing to fall back on once they were deported to their home country. No jobs, no security and peace of mind. Rajan told me that they never had this kind of problems in the past and the immigration laws were made more stringent now. Anuradha was the odd guy among all of us. He was having legal documents to stay and pursue his studies in London. At last he was let off the hook with a minor reprimand. I was also happy and relieves as I was looking forward to going back to India to my family and I was very sure that I would get a suitable job for my kind of academic credentials and work experience. But what about Rajan and his friends!? Alas! All of them were deported to their home country. I returned to India after a few days and was living happily ever after. I never heard about Rajan and others thereafter. But now and then my thoughts would go back to my days in London and memories associated with Rajan. What would have happened to them? Would they have joined the movement for a separate Elam? I would never know!!!