Written piece
My land, your land
Sujatha Shankar Kumar
India
About this piece
The narrative’s lyrical style transports the reader into a metaphorical landscape, where its exploration of territory and belonging resonate beyond a specific geographical setting, to reflect universal patterns of identity, attachment, and the conflicts that arise from them.
This land, my land, your land. We draw boundaries like this.
The pack of dogs on my street chase a newcomer that has strayed in. Not allowed. My street, not yours.
The tomcat circles the perimeter and sprays bushes with his scent, marking his territory. This is my space. Stay away.
There are many such territories — mine and yours. I feel that way about my house. Let’s be honest. My house is mine, and your house is yours.
An old woman once lived on the hill above me. “All this land was ours, after the British left,” she said, waving her hand. “Your grandfather bought a portion from my grandfather.” Then she smiled and shrugged. “These are all boundaries we make. My land, your land. It’s no one’s land, really.”
Once, the gaurs, elephants, foxes, Malabar flying squirrels and monkeys roamed freely on this hillside. Now the gaurs wander into town, searching for quiet places to give birth to their babies. The calves come out into a strange world — not the forests and grasslands that were once theirs, but tar roads, shanty storefronts, and endless traffic. The older gaurs form a barricade around the calves, slowly weaving through the traffic, immune to the drivers’ honking. The great bull bellows in protest lifting his ashy-grey head, his massive hump like the mountain beyond. Our land. This was our land.
I’ll tell you why everyone is fighting. If you own a home, you’re afraid someone will take it away. If you don’t have a home, you live in trepidation, not knowing where you will go next. And so, if and when you find a home, you fiercely possess it. Any which way, we live in constant fear.
Imagine such a world full of fearful humans and fearful animals.
My land. Your land.