My mother married my father at the age of 14 and led a most challenging life of cradling 11 children. She died at the age of 52, when I was still studying in the college. When she died, it was six months after I last saw her. Seven years later in 2007, my father died due to advanced diabetics. While I could be of some help to my father as I was then employed, I have been a useless son to my mother. Neither I could support her financially nor lend a helping hand during her prolonged period of illness as I was writing my month long university exams and people at home did not inform me. Although they did it for good, it still remains one of my greatest regrets in life.
|At Guangzhou Airport, China|
Well today, eleven of us, eleven siblings are on our own but unlike in many cases we are well coordinated and organised and go through happiness and sadness all in unison.
My two elder sisters live in native village and look after our ancestral home and property and others like myself visit them once a year together to perform our annual ritual and pay homage to our long gone parents.
|The youngest of eleven, Trulku Nuden Dorjee|
Two of my younger brothers are proudly profound Buddhist disciples under a great saint, often described as a living Buddha, the Dodrupchhen Rinpoche, based in Sikkim, India.
|My family (2004)|
|Bird eye view of my home town|