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My Home is no more

My parents worked so hard to first get a land where they could farm. Then they worked so hard to build a house of their own. Their hard work paid. They made a name for themselves. They built two houses; more if we are to count the houses they help build for their children. But for what?

We could argue that if they did not work that hard, their children -- my siblings and I could be doing something different, and earning our living in a different way. They worked hard--all for us. They taught us humility. One thing that rings in my mind still to this day is that, we are humble people and we should always remain humble. I could say we have lived it.

What hit me hard was this picture that my eldest brother sent me from my village:

I cannot believe that the place that I called home and the place that lives in me has become like this. I had to look at this picture again and again -- closely. The landscape itself looks changed and it is nothing like I remember from my childhood. Our home, the house that my parents built with hard work and where we had so many happy occasions of Tshechu, annual rimdro, and different family gatherings is now in ruins. All we can see are those walls.

I had to talk to my brother to confirm that it is our home--and that the home that lies deeply crested in our hearts with the memory of all too familiar smell of food cooked by our mother is now in this condition. That night I could not sleep well. I cried. My brother did not want me to show the picture to my mother because he thought she would feel unhappy and troubled. But she was strong. She accepted the law of impermanence and the events that caused all this. But I could not. I thought of my father. I wished he was with me. I often think of how wonderful and happy it would be if both my parents were together with me today.

I often dream of my home. In my dreams, I am driving a car -- and I see that we have a motor road right above our home. And then I heard the news that there will be a mining for rocks going on above our home. Maybe one and half kilometers above it. There will be road. There will be economic activities. But this landscape will be destroyed. The thick vegetation will be gone. I hear the mining is to be carried out by the State Mining Corporation Ltd. I am not sure if the people in my village are happy about it but from the way I see it, only few may benefit. And now, I feel torn and defeated that this home I once knew will change forever -- and it may not even be spared the natural decay and growth that takes place after the ruins.

The nostalgia is so strong as I write this that I wish I could change everything and go back to what I held dear as a child and make this a home again.


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