"There's nothing ahead but a river I will cross"

While looking around for connections, I stumbled upon the poem “Border” by Taslima Nasrin. At a first glance it might be hard to tell, thanks to its positive tone, that this poem has anything to do with A Doll’s House. Looking further, though, I think it is a good representation of how Nora must have felt about her situation (the act of actually leaving her husband and children). Taslima Nasrin talks about how the thought of moving into unknown territory was not even in her mind for the vast majority of her life. She was living a complacent life. Nora was doing the same thing. When Taslima Nasrin eventually realizes that there is so much more to life than just what she has experienced, she is stopped from pursuing these things by her family. I don’t think they mean to stop her, but in their ignorant way, they do. Taslima Nasrin knows that the way will be tough and that even happiness isn’t certain, but the risk has to be taken. I think the last lines of the Poem sum up both Nora’s and Taslima Nasrin’s situations very well:

There’s nothing ahead but a river

and I know how to swim

Why shouldn’t I go? I’ll go

One difference I noticed is that the line “and then return” is used repeatedly in the poem “Border.” I don’t think the line is necessarily talking about returning to her family, but the connotation is definitely there. I believe that Nora is more adamant about her decision, and (at the point that we are left at at the end of the play) would not even think about going back to her oppressed existence. 

"Border"
I'm going to move ahead.
Behind me my whole family is calling,
my child is pulling at my sari-end,
my husband stands blocking the door,
but I will go.
There's nothing ahead but a river
I will cross.
I know how to swim, but they
won't let me swim, won't let me cross.
There's nothin on the other side of the river
but a vast expanse of fields,
but I'll touch this emptiness once
and run against  the wind, whose whooshing sound
makes me want to dance.  I'll dance someday
and then return.
I've not played keep-away for years
as I did in childhood.
I'll raise a great commotion playing keep-away someday
and then return.
For years I haven't cried with my head
in the lap of solitude.
I'll cry to my heart's content someday
and then return.
There's nothing ahead but a river
and I know how to swim.
Why shouldn't I go?  I'll go