Hope is Not a Retirement Plan

The 4 PM light stretches across my desk, illuminating the thin layer of dust on my laptop. In most offices, this is the golden hour, but lately, it feels more like a ticking clock.

I am a mid career professional, and like some of my peers, I am haunted by a single, nagging question: To what end? For a long time, the script was simple. You study hard, land a stable job (ideally in the civil service), and work your way up. The reward was a respectable life and a pension that would carry you through your sunset years in your village or a modest home in the capital.

But the math isn't adding up anymore. With national inflation ever increasing and food prices climbing even higher, the stable salary that felt like a milestone five years ago now feels like a leaky boat. We are running faster just to stay in the same place.

The purchasing power of the Ngultrum has eroded significantly. What Nu. 100 bought five years ago now requires nearly Nu. 200. When I look at my NPPF statement, I don't see a relaxed retirement; I see a survival fund that might last a few years, if I'm lucky.

May be or may be not, perhaps this is the realisation that has triggered a quiet exodus. You see it in the empty desks of offices who have suddenly moved to Australia, or the hushed conversations in the canteen about income generating activities.

The dilemma is paralyzing:I have a decade of expertise, seniority, and a predictable routine but leaving feels like jumping off a cliff without a parachute. If I stay, will my pension even buy a bag of rice in 2040? 

An AI generated image of myself

We are a generation caught between the traditional safety net of family where children were our retirement plan and a modern economy that demands individual financial independence. The traditional structure is thinning as the younger generation moves away, leaving the likes of me to realise that hope is not a financial strategy.

So, what is the way forward? For many of us, it’s no longer about choosing between the office and the hustle, it’s about the bridge between them.

After 5 PM as I pack my bag and head home through the Thimphu traffic, I realize I’m not alone in this uncertainty. I am sure every second car carries a professional wondering if they should turn their hobby into a business or their weekend into a side husltle.

We aren't just working for a paycheck anymore; we are working to outrun an invisible thief called inflation. It’s a heavy realisation, but perhaps it’s the wake up call we need to stop drifting and start building not just for the end of our careers, but for the life that comes after.

Are you also staring at your pension statement and wondering, is this it?

Four Seasons in a Single Day: My Visit to Norbuling Rigter College

There is a particular kind of energy that hums through the air of a college campus. Recently, I found myself walking through the gates of Norbuling Rigter College, and I was immediately swept up in that unmistakable academic rhythm.

As I navigated the busy corridors, the college felt like a living, breathing organism. In the courtyards, clusters of students were huddled over notes, their voices low as they quizzed one another. It wasn't just the students, though; the faculty were right there in the thick of it. I watched professors standing, engaged in earnest conversations with students, offering last minute clarifications or perhaps just a few words of much needed encouragement.

I soon learned the reason for the heightened intensity: the entire student body was in the middle of a grueling week of long testing period. Every corner of the campus seemed dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, yet despite the pressure, there was a warmth to the interactions that felt deeply communal.

If the academic atmosphere was consistent, the weather was anything but surreal. One faculty member noticed me glancing at the sky and chuckled. "You get to see all four seasons here at this time of year," she joked.

She wasn’t exaggerating. The morning had begun with a deceptive, brilliant sunshine that made the college gardens pop with color. Spring was in full display here, with flowers blooming in vibrant clusters, their petals stretching toward the light. But as the hours ticked by, the sky began its transformation. By midday, heavy clouds rolled in, swallowing the sun and turning the landscape a moody grey. Then came the wind, a sharp, biting gust that whistled through the mountain passes. I looked up toward the surrounding peaks and saw a sight that felt like a different world entirely, the mountain tops were being blanketed in fresh, white snow.

By the time evening approached, the fourth season had arrived. The air turned brittle and cold, mimicking the depths of winter. It was a surreal contrast standing near a garden of spring blossoms while watching a snowstorm dance across the ridges above us.

I felt a deep respect for the students and teachers at Norbuling Rigter College. To study and work in a place where nature is so raw and ever changing must require a certain kind of resilience. Whether it was the heat of the morning sun or the winter chill of the evening, the work inside never faltered.

NRC is a place where the seasons might change four times in a day, but the dedication to excellence remains constant.