ThinkinPositive4Hope

Class of 76 Dinner at Little Woods 18/7/25

*Hold Back the Tide: Time to Stop Our Human Resource Drain [18 July 2025]*

Dr. Chinkholal Thangsing

_“A nation that fails to keep its youth rooted in purpose and dignity is a nation surrendering its future.”_

Over the past three to four decades, we have witnessed a painful and unsettling reality: the steady, relentless drain of our human resources. Our youth – our people are leaving our land in large numbers, driven away by the lack of meaningful opportunities, scarce resources, the absence of innovation, weak entrepreneurial ecosystems, and an overall indifference of the system towards their future.

Today, as we are all aware of, many of our young people are scattered across different states of India, often working in menial jobs under exploitative and demeaning conditions. Some work in clubs, where they face the constant risk of harassment and molestation. Others serve in hotels, massage parlors, or call centers – far away from their homes, families, and communities, their dreams quietly eroding with each passing day. In recent times, individuals and placement agencies have approached me, seeking to send our youth abroad to work as caregivers for the extremely elderly, infirm, bedridden, or those in hospices – not only in the metropolises of India but also in countries like Japan and Singapore. But we must ask ourselves honestly: is this truly an advancement for our people? Or is it merely a desperate measure to alleviate extreme poverty at home by sending away our most able-bodied, energetic, and potentially innovative youth to care for the sick and aged of other lands?

What future does this path hold for us as a community? Are we building towards dignity, growth, and self-reliance, or are we simply outsourcing our poverty by exporting our youth as cheap labor?

We must pause and reflect deeply: What are we truly doing as a community to reverse this painful drain of our greatest resource – our people, our youth, our hope?

It is time for the rich, the educated, and the entrepreneurs of our land to come together and address this issue head-on. We cannot continue to watch our people being drained from our soil for meagre salaries, while risking exploitation, indignity, and even danger far from home. It is far more valuable and dignified to earn ₹5,000 in our own town or city, surrounded by family and community, than to earn ₹20,000 in Delhi or any other metropolis where they live as strangers without support, respect, or belonging. They would rent a small room and call it an apartment which are unfurnished and they will have or organize furniture that cost, they have to arrange for kitchen and cooking units, gas cylinders and need to get daily groceries, cook and run a mini home unit that takes away at least two thirds of their earnings. There are of course exceptions – high-end jobs, specialized careers, jobs in government, corporate houses and opportunities that provide genuine growth, advancement, and life-changing exposure. Those pathways should be encouraged and supported. But the mass migration of our youth into low-wage, high-risk jobs with no prospects for the future must stop.

As we move towards self-governance and the shaping of our own destiny, we will need trained, skilled, and motivated human resources to build, manage, and sustain our systems and institutions. Who will do it if our youth are all away, serving elsewhere with no connection, commitment, or investment left for their homeland?

The time has come to put our minds, hearts, and souls together to step up as a community. We must involve our youth meaningfully and empower them purposefully. We need to create viable opportunities within our land, encourage entrepreneurship, build industries and services that employ our own people, and invest in innovations that bring dignity, purpose, and progress to our society.

If we fail to act now, we will wake up one day to find our homeland empty of resourceful people, its own children, governed by others, and sustained by strangers. The future of our people and our land depends on the choices we make today. May we have the courage to choose wisely, and the determination to build a land where our youth no longer leave merely to survive, but stay to thrive.

Let us rise together, create opportunities at home, and build a future where our youth stay to thrive. The time to act is now.

Launching Season 4 with the powerful story of Debbie Weiss, who shares "What She wants you to know about Widowhood and Coping with Death of a loved one" in her own words as abridged here

Loneliness was the hardest thing I faced when I lost my husband. The people who reached out to me when I was newly widowed probably saved my life.

I was a rational woman, a former attorney, pretty close to being grown up. But all changed when my husband died.

I had 32 years with my George until he died of cancer. I was 50 and he was 53. We started dating when I was a high school senior. I invited George to my prom and we were together ever since.

When he died, I fell apart.

Few people are able to deal with death, especially when it’s premature. For a while, my loss was debilitating. It felt physical, like I’d lost part of a lung and couldn’t breathe properly. Not surprisingly, losing a spouse is ranked number one on the stress scale as an event likely to cause illness.

I was always exhausted, a double whammy caused both by losing George and having been his caregiver. I should have worn a sign that read: “Recent Widow. Be gentle. Agitate at Your Own Risk.”

My loneliness after his death was harder to cope with than the loss itself.

After he died, people went silent. A couple of friends thought “being there” meant texting smiley-faced emojis. On average, women lose 75 percent of their support base after their spouses die. But all our friends need to do is call or email, recounting a good memory of the deceased and offering to meet for coffee.

I finally contacted George’s best friend after I didn’t hear from him for several months. When I asked why, he said, “I didn’t know what to say.” People worry they’ll seem intrusive, but ignoring a new widow is far worse.

My personal bane is people who say, “Just get out there!” Where is “out there” exactly? And the recently widowed lack the wherewithal to find it.

In my isolation, I made choices I never would’ve made before. I wound up with a younger boyfriend, but he became impossibly possessive. Later, I became an online dating addict to avoid the pain of being alone.

I had to start from scratch to find friends. I joined groups including a synagogue, the Rotary Club, a car club (not sure what I was thinking), a writing class, and a yoga studio.

Don’t Be These 7 types when talking to the widowed:

1. The Determinists
2. The Pathologists
3. The Empathizers
4. The Backseat Grievers
5. The Dating Coaches
6. The Grudge Holders
7. The Generic Helpers

It took me over two years to function as an adult instead of an angry teenager. And another year after that for my brain to reconstitute. Ultimately, I emerged stronger and much less judgmental than when I was married. I have now (gasp) dated more than one man at a time.

More importantly, when we lose our spouses, even if we’re at our worst, our friends and family need to come closer, not leave us to ourselves.

(Originally published on Ravishly).