Nostalgia Hitting Too Close to Home
-
It is kind of hard to find the singular word to describe how Nitin Sawhney’s parents feel about their experience of migration. They seem to acknowledge the obstacles they had to overcome when migrating, but there is also a sense of relief. Sawhney’s father seems to be grateful that, despite the struggle, his and his wife’s children are okay now, that the struggle was worth it. As for Sawhney’s mother, one could interpret her answer as hopeful. She did not forget her home and her culture, and she did want to show her children all of these aspects as well. In my opinion, it seems like migration was merely temporary, but despite its status, it still came with lots of sacrifice and effort. I might be projecting as I come from an immigrant family. My mother migrated to Canada in the 80s (so in her 20s), but her and her parents never forgot their homeland. My grandmother still visits family in Istanbul every summer. The past is not completely out of reach for migrants.
“Nostalgia” is such a beautiful piece. The string instruments that can be heard across this song do give me a sense of sadness, and the lyrics and the whispy voice seem to emphasize this sadness. In my interpretation, “Nostalgia” is not actually about reminiscing about the past, but rather being unable to authentically understand/feel another person’s past. The singer, first, describes all that they “can” feel, see and touch, but it is not enough to fully understand what the other person went through. The lyrics “Words that fall like distant rain/Worlds that echo in your eyes” serve as the beginning of the singer’s frustrations in being unable to feel nostalgia. These two elements, “distant rain” and the “worlds” are truly so far from what we can touch. The singer repeats “I can’t” quite a lot in this song, and this constant repetition highlights the point that they truly cannot and will most likely never understand what their loved one has gone through and their past.
I feel like I may be projecting a bit when interpreting this song as I also somewhat find myself unable to fully understand everything my family has been through. My family’s migration journey began in 1915 with the Armenian Genocide, in which my great grandparents were orphaned and then adopted into Turkish families. Now, in Turkey, my grandparents have a house and a family. There are friends and other loved ones around them. My mother always reminisces about the wonderful memories she has about Istanbul, but the discussion about why she moved to Canada brings a sense of sadness. Her and her family had to leave everything behind due to bombings at a nearby university. My mother told me about how my grandmother would cover their lights with towels as a safety precaution. Now, in Canada, they always say they miss the beautiful sights of Istanbul but seem to have accepted the fact that moving back might not a possibility anymore as their new families have settled deeply into the West.
The pain or the melancholia does not start the minute migrants travel, but rather with the realization that home is no longer home. Children of migrants and immigrants (born in the West) feel a sense of frustration because, as privileged as they may be in their comfortable homes in the West, they will never truly understand the struggles their families had to go through. There is almost a disparity between the two. Although you may be child and parent, there is still a topic that neither of you can completely understand unanimously.