LACHEN: MEMORIES & REFLECTIONS
Lamten village in Lachen valley, north Sikkim, looked liked this in the 1950s and early 1960s.
I wasn’t prepared mentally or professionally to come back to settle in Sikkim in 1972. But at the end of 1982, I was. Though I had no idea of what I would be doing in Sikkim, I was convinced that I’d be doing what I wanted to do and not what someone else, including my parents, wanted me to do. By and large, most parents in Sikkim want their children to join government service. “Government service” is carved on the foreheads of every school-going children and their parents in Sikkim. My parents were no different, and though they could not tell me directly, I felt that they, particularly my father, wanted me to be in the government.
They naturally wanted a smooth and secure life. This is understandable in a place like Sikkim where people depend on the government for almost everything. To many, being placed in positions of authority, spelt success and status. But I had my own mind and held strong views on many things. What was important to me was not social status but social service, not what position one holds in society but what kind of person one really is. I had my way.
However, I did apply for a government job at first. But this was basically a stop-gap arrangement. I knew I would be coming back to Sikkim for good at the end of 1982 and it was important that I get some sort of employment as soon as I reached Gangtok. In mid-1982, I applied for a job in the Labour Department where there was a post vacant at the under-secretary level. I felt that if I got the job it would at least help me financially at the initial stage. This would enable me to hang around for a while and get the feel of the place before I quit government service and start something on my own.
But what I really wanted to do when I came back home was to go straight to my village in Lachen in north Sikkim and live there for at least two years. I had a strange and enlightening experience in Lachen in the winter of 1975-76. For the first time in my life, I started viewing the life-style of the village folks in Lachen in a different way. I felt a deep and warm appreciation of everything I saw – the people, their dress, mannerism, customs, language, places and everything which was a part of my village. I knew that it was only a matter of time when ‘civilisation’ would break in and put an end to its rich and unique life-style, which has been carefully preserved down the centuries.
Unlike other places in Sikkim, the people of Lachen and Lachung, who live in the extreme north, are of pure Bhutia stock and have a rare and unique cultural identity of their own. Besides observing every aspect of life in Lachen and recording it, I myself had a strong desire to live and experience the life there once again. I felt unsatisfied at having spent only a few years of my childhood in Lachen and I still wanted to spend more time there.
This feeling has lasted all along, and when I went back to teach in MH in 1976 I kept a live interest on Sikkim’s history and its cultural heritage, which was gradually vanishing. I still have not been able to spend much time in Lachen as I had hoped. Perhaps there is a time for everything under the sun and I anxiously wait for the day when I can go back to the land where I was born and where I spent my childhood days. But the sad thing is that many of the older folks, whose company I would have enjoyed and who could also have given me invaluable information about Lachen, have passed away in the past several years, including my two grandfathers – Cho Dorji Lobon, the head lama of Lachen monastery, and Cho Chozila, an important and well-respected elder of the village, for whom I had great love, affection and admiration.
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| Cho Chozila |
Beside extracting authentic information from them, I have always wanted to be close to them and live with them for some time. Both of them passed away in mid-1992. This was a personal tragedy for me and my family and an irreparable loss to our village.
Unfortunately, two more influential elders of Lachen, Cho Wangchuk and Cho Pawo, passed away this year. Their passing away symbolised the end of an era that had been a part of the old Lachen and my childhood memories which I deeply miss and cherish.
One of the few things in life which I regret most is my failure to spend some time in Lachen with my people. My newspaper work and my commitment as a journalist kept me away from my people. Bringing out the Observer has really been a one-man-show all the way and if it hadn’t been for that I could have made frequent trips to Lachen and spend a few weeks there at a stretch from time to time. But perhaps everything has its own time and I didn’t want to rush and he out of tune with life. I would have loved to lived the life of an ordinary villager in Lachen for a few years for the sheer joy and fun of it. It is only when we live our lives fully and completely that we are able to give as much as we want to receive.
(Ref: Inside Sikkim: Against The Tide, Jigme N. Kazi, Hill Media Publications, 1993)