Meaningful Life, the Light of Grace – The Story of the

Founder of the “Explore Ikigai” Campaign

I was born into an ordinary lower-middle-class farming family in central Nepal, growing up carrying memories of simplicity, patience, and silent sacrifices from my childhood. Our household primarily ran on income from agriculture—enough grain to survive, with neither dreams of extravagant spending nor luxurious desires.

My father—calm-natured, honest, and tirelessly hardworking—labored day and night. Sometimes in the fields, sometimes as a skilled laborer—every drop of his sweat was dedicated to feeding our large family and preserving my small dream of education.

I was the youngest of five sons—the only fortunate one to cross the threshold of formal education. But this path was not easy. After completing third grade, my father, burdened by financial strain, decided to stop my studies. As if by fate, the humble pleas of my teachers and brothers convinced him to reluctantly allow me to continue.

At home, we didn’t even have a lantern instead of a kerosene lamp. When I sat down to do homework at night, the thatched roof of our old house, with its upper floor open on both sides, would let the wind blow out the lamp once it started. As evening fell, I would go to a friend’s house and, huddled around their lantern with others, open my books. Despite these challenging circumstances, I emerged as the top student in my secondary school.

With a resolve to carve a new path in life, I enrolled in a forestry college—not just out of interest, but also for survival. A monthly scholarship of 200 rupees not only sustained me but also enabled small purchases for my family during festivals. There, I became a hostel monitor and was elected secretary of the student union, working for student rights and welfare. Surprisingly, the less I attended classes, the better my exam results turned out.

After completing my diploma, I was initially posted as an assistant ranger in one of the most remote districts of far-western Nepal. If God wills it and with dedication, anything is possible. For many, further education was unimaginable given our family’s financial situation, but I resigned from my permanent job at the Forest Department and pursued a bachelor’s degree on a scholarship. Once again, balancing student union leadership and midnight studies, I graduated with excellent marks.

I married a courageous activist dedicated to women’s rights. Our agreement was simple—she would fight for justice, and I would manage the household. I then worked as a forest officer, initially for about a year in the government Forest Department, before transitioning to the NGO sector—where my heart felt more aligned.

Then came a new turn in life—I went to Japan for a master’s degree, supported by my brother-in-law, Dr. Ram Giri, who had long been a student there. With study leave from my employer and the prestigious MONBUSHO scholarship, I left my wife and two young children in Nepal and spent two transformative years at Hokkaido University, excelling in research. I later earned a PhD there—a rare honor.

But my motherland called me back. I began serving again, only for the Maoist conflict to throw everything into chaos. I went abroad once more—this time to Japan as a post-doctoral research officer, and later to the universities of Illinois and Iowa in the U.S. During this journey, I successfully published scientific articles in nearly three dozen prestigious journals.

During this time, I brought my two children to the U.S. to provide them with the best education. My wife, however, remained in Nepal to pursue her political goals and was eventually elected as a Constituent Assembly member, serving on the constitution drafting committee and playing a key role in crafting the new republican constitution.

When my children completed high school and enrolled in college in the U.S., I made a bold decision—I relinquished my U.S. green card, gave up career opportunities, and returned to my homeland—to support my wife’s political career and dedicate my life fully to the nation.

My daughter has achieved success in her life and education, settling in the U.S., marrying there, and becoming the mother of two daughters. But life also brought us unimaginable pain—my son, after years of struggling with bipolar disorder, suddenly left this world due to a stroke. His death struck our small, happy family like a thunderbolt, silencing our celebrations forever.

Honoring their memory and the sanctity of life, I began focusing on projects rooted in gratitude and service. I transformed my childhood school—where my journey began—by leading in construction of a new building, a solid school-boundary wall, an improved playground, and essential infrastructure. Effectively fulfilling the responsibilities of the school management committee's chairperson, I also contributed a school bus, enabling economically disadvantaged students to access free transportation services.

This success planted a new dream—to fulfill these pledges over the next 41 years:

Building a meditation center, reconstructing a pilgrimage site, establishing an old age home, constructing a community hospital, and more.

Each of these projects is a pledge—to serve, to heal, and to spread light.

Today, my life is guided by Ikigai—the Japanese philosophy of a meaningful life. I no longer seek recognition. I focus on simplicity, health, travel, and the wealth born from the soul. I am crafting a hundred-year life map—filled with meaning, healing, and a silent revolution.

This is not just an ordinary biography—it is a testimony. The story of a child who had no lantern, only a flickering lamp, but who illuminated the world with his willpower.

This is a journey—from deprivation to scholarships, from pain to grace, from local roots to a global purpose.

If this story were to be titled, I would call it—

“Meaningful Life, the Light of Grace.”

बारेमा । स्वास्थ्य । यात्रा । श्रव्य । अनुष्ठान । संस्मरण । ब्लग । सम्पर्क