Ali Azam (PhD Scholar)
The promise of financial growth, a dynamic career in a fast-paced Western world, and the allure of sensory delights made the decision seem obvious. A leap into the unknown—chaotic, last-minute, with no clear roadmap for the future. Yet, the price was steep: leaving behind a stable job, lifelong colleagues, and the warmth of blood relations.
At first, it felt like a rebirth. Respect came easily in the new land, earned through hard-won expertise and trust. But soon, the cracks appeared. The once-enthusiastic boss who had painted dreams during interviews now barely acknowledged your existence—until something went wrong.
Weekends became lifelines, fleeting moments of rest in an endless chase for dreams. The fear of your children losing touch with their roots gnawed at you, turning family dinners into silent, untouched affairs. Back home, your old boss had signed your resignation letter with a smile. “Keep the doors open,” they said. But now, you wonder—did you close them for good?
Luxuries sparkled, but at what cost? The ironclad bond with siblings, the comfort of parents—could they survive the distance? Or would the golden cage of success become your biggest regret in retirement?
This is the untold story of migration—the dreams that shine bright and the sacrifices that cut deep.
Dedicated to all who carry the weight of “brain drain” on their shoulders.
