Freiheitspunkt

In German, there is a word called Auslander which basically means foreigner. If you were born outside Germany and settle inside of it, you are an Auslander. Now it is only rational to be called a foreigner if you are infact from a foreign country speaking a foreign language. But even if you are born in Germany and speak fluent German, you can still be an Auslander.
For instance, if you are black or Asian, you are an Auslander. It doesn't matter if you are a German citizen or not. Infact "Auslander Raus" is a famous slogan used in anti immigrant right wing rallies which means"foreigners out" and they probably mean "every immigrant out". But I believe there is more to this word than what meets the eye.
Have you ever had this feeling where you associate all of your suffering with your surroundings? I believe all adults will have felt this atleast once. That if we could just move far away from all these familiar things - family, friends, society and whatnot, then maybe all our suffering will disappear. So what if a German (yes for the sake of this example let's go with blonde hair and blue eyes and stuff) feels like this living in Germany? That he should move to Italy or Namibia and start anew? Isn't he an Auslander? Yes, he is. And that is the beauty of this word. It is not an insult when someone calls you an Auslander.

Anyone who feels like a stranger in his own country and dreams of an escape is an Auslander. It has got nothing to do with nationality at all. And this knowledge - that the world is filled with Auslanders like me, gives me great comfort and courage to move on.

Ja, Ich bin auslander.

Around 140 people died while trying to cross the Berlin wall between 1961 and 1989. One of them was Ernst Mundt who decided to flee to the west to see his mother and was shot down by East German border guards. The Mauer Gedankstatte has pictures of some of the other Berliners whose lives ended abruptly likewise.

The Brandenburg Gate - probably the most famous landmark in Germany is a neoclassical monument built under orders of the Prussian king Frederick William II and was used as a symbol of power during the N**i era. In 1945, it was damaged badly during the bombing but as one can see now has been restored to it's former glory. When the wall came down in 1989, the gate became a symbol of freedom and unity. This is the view from Pariser platz.

After the defeat of N**i Germany in the second world war, the victorious Allied forces carved up the country and occupied it from all sides. There were four zones- British, French, American and Russian. In 1949, East Germany or Deutsche Demokratishe Republic (DDR) which had it's allegiance to the Eastern Bloc under USSR came into existence. The construction of the Berlin wall began in 1961 to prevent the citizens of DDR from fleeing to the supposedly greener pastures in West Germany. The separation of the two countries in both physical and ideological ways was symbolized by the Berlin wall until it came down in 1989. The remnants of the wall can still be found in the city, covered in graffiti like these.......

Man is not born free rather he is born into chains of language, s*x, religion, nationality and whatnot. Deep inside him he yearns to break free from all these chains that he is born into but is unable to do so despite his best efforts as he finds himself paralysed by the inability to even express these feelings of bo***ge to the ones close to heart. An attempt at explaining this unfreedom leads to frustration and anger which makes matters worse. The inability to articulate this yearning to break free is a human curse that haunts us all. We must nevertheless try and attempt this absurdity because beyond the barren plains of fear lies the emancipation of one's soul.......

Joined Die Linke party, participated in a protest against right wing corona conspiracy theorists. Loud music, strong statements!

On the square brass bricks engraved on the sidewalk, it's written - Here lived so and so who were deported to Auschwitz in year so and so and murdered.

Finally reached Berlin. Decided to walk to my hostel in Alexanderplatz that was around four kms away from the hauptbahnhof. It's curious how these relatively long walks feel like interesting challenges while travelling but the same four kms would be an impossible distance to walk once we are back home.

I've always wanted to visit this place and have often fantasized about standing over there. It's not that difficult to reach the place. You take a train from Leipzig hauptbahnhof and get down at Bad Durrenberg station and then take a bus to a small town called Lützen. A 2.5 km straight walk along the side of the main road and you reach an even smaller town in the middle of nowhere called Röcken. Take a right onto Freidrich Nietzsche straße. Straße in German means street. A few more steps and you reach the place where the genius is buried. There was no one else at the grave besides me.

On the train ride to Germany, my passport, visa and vaccination certificate was checked by the authorities on four different occasions, each time the train crossed a border- in Hungary, Austria, Czechia and Germany.

After a long eleven hour ride, I finally reached Dresden. Let's see - what do I know about Dresden? Absolutely nothing other than reading about it in a novel called Slaughterhouse Five written by Kurt Vonnegut. The novel is about the carpet bombing of Dresden that happened in February 1945, during the final months of the second world war.

By February 1945, the supposedly superhuman German army was in full retreat from all the fronts and the Luftwaffe was a spent force. The capitulation of the Third Reich was imminent.

Dresden was mostly untouched relative to the destruction that was happening everywhere else as the city had little military significance. Many people at that time believed that Dresden would be spared from the Allied bombings. Some residents even believed that it wouldn't happen because Churchill's wife's aunt lived in Dresden or something absurd of that sort. Dresden did not contribute much to the German war effort and a lot of refugees from other parts of Germany had flocked there as many considered it a safe haven. And then the unthinkable happened.

Between 13 to 15 February 1945, thousands of tonnes of bombs were dropped on Dresden by Allied aircrafts. There was no one to defend the city.
An estimated 25000 people burned to death in the bombing and the firestorm that ensued. Goebbels spun up a story where 250000 people were killed and used it for his propaganda.

In schools, we learn about A***n supremacy and the atrocities of the N**is, but this incident is never mentioned. Luftwaffe is closely associated with evil and rightly so but the Lancaster heavy bombers are painted as heroic machines that delivered divine justice or something of that sort.

Kurt Vonnegut was in Dresden as a prisoner of war during the bombing and Billy Pilgrim was probably a vehicle used to release his stream of consciousness. We closely associate crimes against humanity committed during the second world war with N**is and the imperial Japanese army but the carpet bombing of Dresden was a crime against humanity as well. History, as it is being written by the victorious turns a blind eye towards all the crimes of the winners. In Hollywood movies, the American army is often pictured as angels sent from heaven to deliver justice and save humanity, but that is just a narrative that sells better.

Remember February 13th and the bombing of Dresden. It is more important and historically significant than February 14th which is celebrated all around the world for reasons unknown to us. Perhaps we are a careless breed of animals who are barely interested in truth. But novels like Slaughterhouse Five announces the significance of literature to us. As the novel explores the cursed human condition, it's author - an American, takes the side of the people who perished in Dresden, giving a voice to the dead and to us - the living, a chance to widen our perspective.

Despite everything, Dresden survived and it makes me immensely happy to walk around this historic city that has risen from the ashes and is thriving today.

The first time I ever got out of my country, it was to come to this same city that I am in right now. That was back in 2018. The place hasn't changed much from my last visit. My hostel is in a place called Oktogon Ter. Ter means square in Hungarian. When you open the window from my room, there is this lovely view.....

Below us were all these little specks of white amidst a sea of blue. The sun hadn't come out yet but he painted the sky with a reddish golden hue that announced his arrival. A new day. A new beginning. Isn't it wonderful that the sun comes out every day and gives us a chance for a fresh chapter in our lives? How do we manage to f**k it up every single time? So many lost chances to begin anew. How about we don't f**k it up today? No, not tomorrow. Today.