Strugglers

I was under a very wrong impression that the Sikkimese youth are a spoilt lot. Having seen and, more importantly, having struggled myself, I felt we were a privileged lot back home. Throughout college, the onus of giving pocket money, fees, rent etc. was left to our parents. This was something we never questioned. It was their duty to send us to college and, similarly, it was their job to send us the money. In Deen, I realized the true worth of part time jobs and working hard to earn cash. I would take up whatever shifts I could get, even working seven days a week at times instead of taking the occasional day off to relax, just because it meant that much dough was in the offering. Since being back, every time I have seen a student working behind the counters of a McDonalds or a KFC, I wish our youth could also experience this lifestyle for once. To me, it seemed like we would never understand the value of money unless we earned it ourselves. Tonight changed all that.

We were invited for dinner by my sister and brother-in-law. It was the launch of a new hotel they have taken on lease. This hotel happens to be bang in the centre of town, a good location for a hill station thriving on tourism. The four chefs, especially the head chef, cooked us a special continental menu which had us mmming and congratulating the new owners. The head waiter and two waitresses for the night were from far off villages in West Sikkim. Upon probing, we came to know that the girls were staying in a staff room in the hotel itself, while the boy was putting up in Deorali. Each one had to work a twelve hour shift, six days a week. In the end, they were being paid a meager Rs 3000/- a month. Apparently, this was the standard wage being offered in all hotels. I was taken aback when I came to know their salary. If it weren't for my mother, I'd never have given this a thought. Wow! There actually were people struggling in the capital while here I was thinking quite the opposite. The money must mean so much to them, meanwhile I would shell out a five hundred note without giving it much thought.

This encounter makes me realize that we are indeed such a privileged lot. Our parents have ensured that we never have to struggle this hard. Yet, we always feel like there is something missing, something we need to strive for which can make us feel better, stronger or powerful maybe. I guess this is all part of the grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side syndrome. Tough luck, really!