Tag: family

Don’t Forget Love

On By DorjiWangchukIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

(Tragedy for Children Left Behind – Part II)

My earlier post on children left behind has stirred some conscience. I am glad. That was my intention – to make people think and reflect. Some, of course, just got offended and shrugged it off as nonsense. It has also put others in defensive mode. These were all expected. This is a very sensitive and personal matter. I understand.

I close this topic with a very personal story.

In the early 1970s when we (my four siblings and I) were growing up in Phuntsholing our parents really struggled to feed us and clothe us. My father was just a bus driver – a single-earner parent, who also had to look after his own siblings (my young uncles and aunt) since my father was the eldest. My grandfather had passed away when my father was just 10.

We lived on a bare minimum and I remember I often went to Hindu pujas and ceremonies that were conducted at the nearby Hanuman temple in Jaigaon. They gave me free food, with tea and dessert too. (This is the reason I love Indian people). Other times I ran errands for our neighbours and they would either give me some small change or feed me in their homes. Everyone knew I was always hungry. Other times I collected empty beer bottles from private homes and sold them in Jaigaon.

Around that time we also had a well-off granduncle in Kalimpong called memay Sangchung. He often visited us in Phuentsholing and took a liking for me. Memay Sangchung ran occasional tasks for the Bhutan House and our royal family and made his fortune by hosting Tibetan traders in his house. I was told he hand-stitched the ghos for the Third King, which was very highly appreciated. He was my late grandfather’s younger cousin – a close relative by Sharchop standards because he shared the same bloodline and came from the same house in Tashigang.

Memay Sangchung felt very sorry for my father and offered to help. He often took me and my sister to Kalimpong on school breaks and gave us everything we asked for – food, clothes, pocket money, etc. He also offered to adopt us and educate us in the best boarding schools in Kalimpong or Darjeeling. Memay even tried to entice me by showing hundreds of zee beads, ivories, cobra horns and gold statues, and told me I could have them all if I became his foster son.

My father was quite open to it afterall memay was his real uncle. But my late mother was totally against giving us away. “Even if I can only afford a yomri (thin flour broth – a food of the poorest), we will eat together, and I will raise my children like that”. She was absolutely clear about what she was doing and what she could provide for us. “Waktsa rey soenam rey” (every child comes with a fortune) was her favourite line. I later went to Don Bosco Technical School (Kharbandi) in the same town. 

What my mother lacked in terms of materials and properties, she made up with her big heart, optimism and a great sense of humour. Despite the hardship, our house in Phuntsholing was also the favourite transit hostel for every person from eastern Bhutan. But my mother never once complained or turned away anyone who sought shelter in our home.

She poured her unconditional and boundless love on all of us – without distinction and without once feeling hopeless. Maybe this is the reason why my siblings and I grew up as fairly grounded people. We simply grew up in love, laughter and optimism – but penniless and most of the time slipperless.

So to all of you, especially the young Bhutanese mothers, whatever you can afford for your children is okay. However, I wish you the togetherness, sitting in circles, and eating and enjoying that simple thing you can afford – maybe it is just a yomri – but with limitless love and laughter. Now or later. Whenever.

Yes, money is important. That’s the sad reality of the modern world. But don’t forget love. And for that, you don’t have to seek it anywhere else. You don’t have to leave the country we all love – or the community that loves you.

It is there inside you – in all of us. And maybe that’s the best gift you can give. Rest, I believe, your children will figure it out – like we did. Because, we all come with a fortune clipped on our head.

(Picture: My father, my younger sister and I with my Dev Anand-inspired hairstyle. 😁😁😁 1976, Phuntsholing, Gupta Studio. The shirt and the tie were part of the Studio wardrobe.)

The Tragedy for Children Left Behind

On By DorjiWangchukIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Last week in a casual conversation with my so-called social media influencers, one working mother-journalist, shared something very concerning. The case of many young parents who have left their young children in the hands of caregivers back in Bhutan.

In a bid to secure the future of their children, the parents are working abroad and sending money and resources back home. It is a common narrative across Asia and not just confined to Bhutan. So far so good. It sounds nice. It sounds noble. It sounds rational. But this is where the good news ends, in my view.

As I mentioned before, I am not a child psychologist, but a social science student who is trained to observe social phenomena a little more in depth. More than that I am a parent of two daughters (now adults) and the head of an extended family with a long list of nieces and nephews, who always believed that depriving your children of parental love and presence does not bode well for their development.

The consequences of childhood dejection are even scarier. At best, these children will grow up with a big hole in their heart, while the worst case scenario is beyond anyone’s imagination. 

First, there is simply nothing in the world that can replace the parental love and their continued presence as the child grows up and confronts the cruel, complicated and confusing world. Second, there is tons of academic research that shows that the harm from the absence outweighs any economic benefits. One study from China suggests that children who are not raised by their parents are at higher risk of internet addiction, depression, anxiety, loneliness, suicidal ideation, drug abuse and violent crimes.

As we come to terms with the increasing reality of outmigration, there are few questions that one needs to ask in earnest – with utmost sincerity. Whose dreams and future are you securing? Your own or your children’s? Won’t there be the possibility that the dreams you are building could turn into nightmares in future? What if you are left with a broken child. What kind of adult this child would grow up to be? What kind of country are we going to live in? Mind you, ours is a small nation and it will take one person to bring down the whole society and the atmosphere. We are not India or the Philippines to absorb social shocks. No amount of money or iPad will substitute you.

I might also add that there are no perfect one-size-fits-all answers to the above questions. It depends from case to case, person to person, and from family to family. For instance, two of my age-mates with foreign spouses successfully brought up their children in the US with strong Bhutanese identity. And back in the 2000s my own sister had to leave behind two young children, and we the two elder siblings tried our best to fill the gap. It looks like it worked in our case. To our great fortune, though, our elder sister was a housewife, and we didn’t have iPads, smartphones or social media. And life was fairly simple and straight-forward. And I also met a woman in New York who has no choice but to provide from afar.

For those who are out, I feel it would be good to follow our age-old advice, which my late mother used to give me. Whatever you do, do it with moderation (tsham tshey in Bhutanese). If you have made some inroad into financial security, come back. For those parents who are planning to leave, take turns to go and study and earn abroad, while one stays back and be with the children. Or if you can afford and also ensure that you can rein in your children, pass your values and identity (which will be tough), take the children with you. Be careful with this too. This is another topic that I have partly dealt with in other talks and articles.

Ask those tough questions every now and then, and be honest with yourself, instead of blindly following the herd. Or stubbornly chasing the dream. You know your own situation, circumstances, and your children better than anyone. But, if you lose your children no one will cry with you. The mass you followed will instead blame you for not knowing how to parent.

Most importantly, as my influencer-colleague shared with a heavy heart, be aware! Just know that this nightmarish future is not something you can undo once it unfolds in front of you.

You cannot unwind the clock of your life. You cannot retrieve those lost years.

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

(Archive picture from my last trip)