Written by Sunil Amrith and Ruth Coffey
Illustrated by Matthew Frame
Reviewed by Sinead Vaz and Sujata Noronha
Three short stories that explore the multifaceted experiences of migration.
The book grew out of Suni Amrith’s research for his novel, Crossing the Bay of Bengal: The Furies of Nature and the Fortunes of Migrants, which has the same backdrop. Amrith is a historian who was born in Nairobi, Kenya, but grew up in Singapore. In researching it, Amrith and his father retrace the steps of their family and community between 1927 – 1941. Although the characters’ personal experiences remain at the centre, colonialism, war, political movements, and civil unrest constantly shape the worlds they inhabit. The three stories also give us different experiences of the diaspora. Across them, we encounter questions of where one belongs, what it means to leave home, and how identity changes through migration across generations.
The first story follows Samy, ten years old, who leaves home, his mother and sister to travel with his uncle from India to Malaya (modern-day Malaysia). His experience reflects many of the struggles associated with first-generation migration. His fear eventually transforms into ambition and hopes of earning for himself and his family back home, but his reality is considerably harsher. The stories of Samy and his uncle show us that migration as a pathway to opportunity is often accompanied by exploitation and sacrifice.
Samy’s story also introduces the exportation of the anti-caste movement beyond India. Many migrants to Malaya came from Tamil Nadu, and in 1929 Periyar E. V. Ramasamy was invited to address the Indian community there. The opposition to this address from upper-caste Hindus in Penang reflects the persistence of caste divisions even within migrant communities. For Samy, this tension is present in Samy’s uncle, who reprimands him for becoming involved in the protests. The social hierarchy does not simply disappear when people leave their homes behind. We don’t often, if ever, see this represented in literature.
The second story, integrated with the first, follows Abdul and Mei Ling, two children from working-class migrant families. By this point, Samy has settled in Singapore, where he owns a store and employs twelve-year-old Abdul as a newspaper delivery boy. Unlike Samy’s experience as a first-generation migrant, Abdul and Mei Ling represent a different aspect of diaspora. They have grown up in the country their parents migrated to and are able to enjoy some of the opportunities their parents worked to create. School, treats and their weekly trips to the cinema give them a sense of ordinary childhood, even as political unrest surrounds them.
The Chinese Communist movement forms the backdrop to their story. One day, Abdul and Mei Ling accidentally find themselves at New World, an amusement park. They listen to a speech by a woman who introduces herself as Comrade Pan. When Abdul realises they are somewhere they should not be, it is already too late. Mei Ling is recognised, and the children are taken home by a family friend.
The reactions of their parents give us an insight into family and neighbourhood dynamics, and the political background of Singapore at the time. Both sets of parents respond with anger, and beneath this anger is the fear that everything they have worked to build could be destroyed by political movements they do not fully understand or wish to be involved in. We can see their frustration with their position being directed towards the other immigrant community. Amrith shows us how class, race, and immigrant identity can become sources of division even among people who share similar experiences of displacement. Having the parents interact puts Abdul’s and Mei Ling’s childhoods into perspective.With Abdul telling us the story, we know he does not fully understand the political circumstances surrounding him. He hears his parents’ anger but is given little explanation for it.
“No one says a word to Mei or Abdul. No one explains. What’s a communist? What’s a comrade? Why didn’t they want to hear what that girl was saying? He keeps his paper round money, thinks Abdul, and Appa lets him keep his tips. And why would the police come? The police are interested in thieves and robbers, thinks Abdul, not ideas.” p. 50
The precarity of their lives may not be something that Abdul is aware of at the time, but it is underlined throughout the story for the reader. Through his eyes, the story becomes as much about childhood during political unrest as it is about migration. This story raises a question usually not addressed: what does childhood look like when political conflict is part of the world children are growing up in?
The third story introduces us to Lily, a twelve-year-old Anglo-Burmese girl living with her family in British Burma. Unlike Samy, Abdul, and Mei Ling, Lily experiences migration from a position of relative privilege. She has a nanny, maids, and servants, and initially seems protected from the political tensions developing outside her bubble.
Yet, Lily’s privilege cannot shield her from the consequences of war, which does eventually break out in Burma. Much of what she learns about the impending Japanese invasion comes from overheard conversations between her father and Samson, the only named servant, as well as her nanny, who provides her with information that the other adults around her withhold. As the invasion draws closer, Lily begins to notice changes around her; her bubble is no longer intact as the larger world creeps in. The changes brought on by war are noticed by Lily’s world gradually becoming smaller.
“Everything is too strange, too confusing. Lily gets ready for bed as usual that night, but nothing is really as usual. There is no school tomorrow, and she has no idea when there will be school again.[…] Why is everyone so frightened? What is about to happen? It’s not just Nanny who is worried, Samson and the maid dash about looking serious.” p. 63
We get a glimpse into the performance of the aforementioned privilege in times of war. Lily is able to escape to Calcutta with Anjali, her school friend, and Anjali’s family. Her ability to leave is afforded to her because of her father. However, the rest of Lily’s family is forced to stay behind. Not for lack of trying. Lily’s English father repeatedly tries to seek passage for his family but is stonewalled because they are not English. Her father promises that he will see her again, but Lily understands that this is something neither of them can know for certain. Her departure being the end of the story maintains the tone of the other stories. Samy, Abdul, Mei-Ling and Lily have to leave with the uncertainty that comes with migration.
The epilogue is an important editorial choice because it brings the three stories together. We learn what happens to Lily after her journey to Calcutta, and the book we read is born when Lily reaches out to Abdul, who has since become a journalist. All three stories end ambiguously, but we get some answers in the epilogue.
The historical “notes” make the book more robust. When we read about Indian migration, we rarely talk about the communities that moved east instead of west. Although the three stories are accessible without this additional context, the notes make the historical fiction richer. Through the author’s notes, Amrith shares the process of writing the book, and we can see his own diasporic experience come through the stories. Rather than individual characters, there is space to read deeper into the common experiences of migration. Crossings draw attention to a part of history that is overlooked by Indian historical narratives.
These layered accounts would best be understood in close readings with guidance. In discussion with a small group of 12- and 13-year-olds, we found that a few concepts presented were novel for them; most didn’t know about communism. However, when asked if they think the book is for them or older children, everyone said everyone should read it. They related to different characters and nuanced parts of the stories. Suraj, a member of our Panjim library, picked on Abdul’s story, saying it reminded him of his own, growing up in Goa as a Nepali child.
We believe Crossings does not present migration as a single experience. Samy’s story is one of first-generation struggle and economic ambition, while Abdul and Mei Ling’s is about childhood, inherited identities, and the uncertainties faced by children of migrants. Lastly, Lily’s is a story of displacement from within a position of colonial privilege. Together, these perspectives create a nuanced portrait of the diaspora. By connecting these experiences across Malaya, Singapore, Burma, and India through the Bay of Bengal, Crossings opens up a history of movement that is often absent from mainstream accounts of Indian migration.
Other Books
- Esperanza Rising by Pam Munoz Ryan, Scholastic, 2000
- The Arrival by Shaun Tan, Hodder Children’s Books, 2006
