Beyond the ornately carved humongous iron gate stretched an endless field of flowers, swaying like a dream waiting to be touched. Seven-year-old Jampa stood in awe, his heart pounding with anticipation. Just one more step, and he would be transported into this surreal world—far away from the chaos and atrocities his homeland Tibet was facing. As he moved his foot to step across the gate, a sudden jolt shattered the dream, pulling him abruptly back to reality. He wasn’t standing before a majestic gate; he was rather curled up beneath a truck driver’s seat, his younger cousin huddled beside him, hiding as they fled Tibet in exile, bound for an unknown land—India.
Twenty years later, Jampa finally found his metaphorical field of flowers in India. But the seven-year-old Jampa was shattered the day he reached India with his younger cousin. The place he arrived at was nothing like the magical land he had imagined from the stories his elders told him back in Tibet. How else could they have convinced a child to leave behind his parents and siblings for a foreign land? There were no carved gates, no fields of flowers—all he felt was uncertainty and melancholy for his homeland and people.
He still remembers the terror of being abandoned at the Nepal border during this journey, left to navigate the unknown with his six-year-old cousin. They spent a month in Nepal, lost and clueless before they were finally guided to India. They endured a few restless weeks in Mcleodganj and sensed a sign of relief only when they finally met their aunt in the monastery. Jampa was transferred to a Tibetan school and admitted directly to the third grade as a gifted student. Through hard work, he gradually carved out a place for himself in a land that once felt unfamiliar and daunting.
Today, at 27, Jampa holds a master’s degree in computer science and carries dreams bigger than ever. He has worked with international companies, but his true calling led him back to giving—teaching computers to young refugees in McLeodganj. Many little Jampa now find hope in his story, seeing in him a reflection of their own struggles and aspirations.
Yet, what strikes me most is not just his journey of resilience but his response when I tell him, “Your story is so inspiring; you must be proud of yourself.”
“Inspiring? Is it?” he laughs, shrugging it off nonchalantly. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
Time and again, I have witnessed this quiet strength in those who have endured hardship. They refuse to let their past cast a shadow over their hearts. Instead, they always look ahead, keeping their heads high and making room for hope and joy for themselves and those around them!
Thank you, Jampa for sharing your story with me!
