What is it, that we are striving for, during more than 3/4th of our day, when we are at work?
Is it job satisfaction, career growth, enough money or something else?
What is at the end of this seemingly never-ending circle?
Are we looking to gain something or the whole purpose is to give ourselves to something?
And the most important question - Who will cry when we retire? (Courtesy: Robin Sharma’s Who’ll Cry when you Die?).
Today – my mom and dad bid adieu to their Karm-Bhumi (Land of Duty), the land of rising sun in India – Arunachal Pradesh, after 36 years of relentless and passionate service, in the field of education as a School Teacher with state government.
The moment is filled with an aroma of heartwarming love, respect, and emotions beyond description. This is his final school – Govt School Dirang Village that he is retiring from.
To describe his first service at Kodak village (link) , Taliha in Upper Subansiri district, the region of Tagin tribe in 1986,will be beyond imagination for many, even my own children. I was in grade 1 and still vaguely remember, the whole primary school built of bamboos and grass, collapsing down, while we were singing songs in the school assembly under open sky.My dad’s 2nd location of work was Jamiri village (link), in West Kameng district in 1992. I recall my best friend Rugro being punished with sticks for indiscipline at school; and a village headman’s daughter being sent back from school – the principle was when you are at school – the same rules apply to all students, including the teacher’s own son (me :D).
It was in 1994, when we moved to my dad’s 3rd work location – Thembang village, my favourite, where I learnt and grew the most. I recall us climbing 12 kms up the mountain, nestled with beautiful forests, with all our bags on horses, to reach the village and teacher’s quarters. This is where my father’s work could not go unnoticed. His efforts and dedication in educating, developing, and building the future of that village, the students – as an all-rounded person - studies, sports, cultural and literary activities were unparalleled. This is where I and my fellow students learnt to play volleyball and ended up representing our school at district and state level tournaments within couple of years. I recall this big goat whom the whole village feared as being the God’s terror. The goat and the superstition around it, both were beaten and driven away with a big Lathi by my father. It is a beautiful place inhabited by Mompa tribe. Today the place is being promoted as tourist destination under “incredible India” program and also recognized by UNESCO as world heritage (link1, link2).
In 1997, my dad moved to Dirang Valley – into a few different schools – Yewang, Nyigmadung and finally Dirang Village where he is retiring from and bidding adieu today. I had left my parents sometime in 1997 for further studies and have not closely followed his and my mom’s journey since then.
Looking at his life - devoted to his work - in a condition and place so challenging and unimaginable for many, even today, and amidst that - the way he brought up his children to lead successful corporate lives around the globe; I have no words - but I am just proud, very proud of him and mom!
But also thoughtful, will I be able to earn such respect and love during my work life? Will I be able to give my children the guidance and direction that we got from him and mom?
And, the million dollar question - who will cry when I retire?
