I was neither born with a silver spoon in my mouth nor have i been blessed to receive much parental care when i was growing up as a child. I took birth in a small village called Dhochuck in Nangchen, the eastern part of Tibet, but my parents sent me away from home with my paternal uncle at his small cave for retreat to learn basic Tibetan writing and reading since he was the only educated person in my family. I don't know exactly what my age was at the time but I do vividly remember how much I used to miss my parents. I used to cry silently without my uncle's knowledge when my father came for occasional visits. However, things changed after my uncle left the country. My parents sent me to a school run by the Chinese where I often had to bear the humiliations of elder children and severe beatings from the teachers. I never like my school. I kept expecting my uncle to come back soon and withdraw me from the school. But, my uncle never came back; instead he sent home a message asking to send me and my sister to India for education. Though it was a very hard decision for my parents, they finally did. I was too happy for I didn't have to attend the same school and very excited to see the "heavenly" India as my parents described. I guess a child's excitement is different. The fascinating imaginations of India and then getting to see uncle after such a long separation was everything that mattered to me at that point.
I left my country fifteen years ago. I never had the opportunity to return and see my family again. My innocent excitement as child resulted into a long separation from my family and everything I held dear. Not only that, there were many times I thought I wouldn't survive out of exhaustion and starvation when I was escaping from the mountains of Tibet and Nepal(assumed India at the time). The journey took almost a month. There were knee-length snow piles and neck-deep rivers we had to cross. One time, I and my friend were left across a huge river with everyone else on the other side of the river as we were too small to cross it but too heavy to be helped. We stayed for a day by that river eating ice to fill our empty stomach while caressing our swollen eyes from crying. We thought of jumping into it even though my father warned us never to try. Had we tried at that time, none of us would have survived and I wouldn't be here today telling this story. Death would have been the only consequence of my parent's purpose of sending me to India. This is just one anecdote of the countless hardships we had to go through. When I look back now, I feel immensely lucky that I have survived and reached safely, though the "heavenly" India turned out to be the total opposite. I lived in India as a student refugee for fifteen years long. My dreams of reuniting with my family was shattered after learning that I don't have a country to go back to. The painful histories of my country were revealed to me only after my escape into exile. I realised there is no way going back. Despite the hardships, there are many things that I am grateful for. I got free education till my twelfth grade from Tibetan Children's Village (TCV) and then got opportunity to attend one of the best universities in India. I received bachelor's degree in English Honors from Miranda House, university of Delhi. After learning about my country, I became a young activist. I am still working with the freedom movement in exile with the hope that one day I will return to my country. I remain highly indebted to TCV and my uncle for their tireless support. This story would have remained untold and I wouldn't have got such an opportunity to take part in the movement if not for their generosity. Empires rise and fall. Things will change tomorrow no matter how powerful China appears today.
