A Personal Reflection from Dharan to Jhapa
I. The Escape from Purwanchal Campus
It was mid-semester at Purwanchal Campus (IOE) in Dharan. The mid-term examinations had just wrapped up, leaving behind a wake of sleepless nights, complex structural analysis equations, fluid mechanics derivations, and concrete mix design sheets. The heat of the Eastern Terai was slowly creeping in, and five of us, Sarshan Dahal, Sanjog Lagun, Upendra Bhattarai, Sanjib Karki, and Samyog Sapkota, decided we desperately needed an escape from the rigorous rhythm of engineering life.
The plan was hatched over sweet milk tea at a local stall right outside the campus gate.
"Let's head down to Happyland Fun Park in Surunga," suggested Sanjog, adjusting his hair with the calm demeanor of someone who had already calculated the exact distance, bus fare, and estimated arrival time. "They’ve built a mini Taj Mahal replica there. It’s perfect for a day out."
Upendra, always the camera enthusiast of our group, immediately pulled out his smartphone. "We need good portraits for our profiles anyway," he grinned. "White marble backdrops, golden afternoon sunlight, it’ll look as if we went all the way to Agra!" Samyog and Sanjib readily agreed, eager to exchange stress for laughter and open blue skies.
II. The Glamour of the Replica
By mid-morning, after a short ride down from the hills of Dharan into the plains of Jhapa, we arrived at Happyland Park in Surunga. The park was buzzing with visitors, families on picnics, children running around ice cream carts, and young people striking poses. Standing tall near the center of the park was the miniature Taj Mahal, a striking, ivory-white structure gleaming under the sun.
For the next hour, our group was completely absorbed in the art of taking the perfect picture. Sanjog took charge as the director.
"Upendra, lean against the pillar! Sanjib, look into the distance like you're pondering hydraulic design! Sarshan, move two steps left for better lighting!"
Yet, amidst all the laughter and picture-taking, a subtle feeling began to settle over us. We were so caught up in preserving our own images, curating how the world saw us, that the moments themselves felt almost performative. We were so busy finding our best angles that we were losing touch with the actual experience of just being together.
III. An Unplanned Turn of Events
Around 2:00 PM, while Sanjib and Sarshan were reviewing a fresh batch of shots near the lawn, a sudden commotion broke out near the park’s main walkway. An elderly visitor, who had been visiting the park with his family, had slipped near a wet embankment by a decorative pond. A small crowd gathered, but people were hesitating, uncertain of what to do.
Instinct took over. Sanjog dropped his camera strap over his shoulder, and without a second thought, all five of us ran toward the spot.
Upendra and Sarshan immediately bent down to carefully lift the elderly man to safety, making sure his neck and back were supported. Sanjib quickly called for park first-aid, while I retrieved clean water and a towel from our backpacks.
For the next forty-five minutes, our focus completely shifted. We stayed by the man's side, applying basic first aid to a small graze on his knee, fanning him in the afternoon heat, and keeping his worried family calm until park officials confirmed he was unhurt. As his family showered us with heartfelt blessings and tears of relief, a deep, quiet calm settled over the five of us.
IV. The Shift in Perspective
When we finally walked back toward the Taj Mahal replica, the sun had started its low, warm descent toward the horizon. The park seemed quieter now. We sat together on a stone bench facing the water feature, dusty and tired, but feeling an unprecedented sense of joy.
Sanjog picked up his camera again, but this time, nobody posed. Nobody adjusted their hair or worried about lighting. He snapped a candid shot of us simply sitting together, sweaty, unpolished, but genuinely smiling.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Sarshan remarked, looking at the white dome reflecting the sunset. “We spent the entire morning trying so hard to take photos that made us look good, trying to define who we are as students and future engineers. But I didn't feel half as connected to myself then as I did when we were helping that uncle.”
Sanjib nodded in agreement. “Mahatma Gandhi once wrote that 'The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.' I always thought it was just a grand quote for books. But today, when we stopped thinking about our photos, our clothes, and our own worries, and just focused on being useful to someone else... everything felt clear.”
Upendra smiled, looking down at his dust-stained shoes. “We spend four years in Dharan studying how to design infrastructure, roads, clean water networks, bridges. Why? Not so our names are carved in marble, but so people can travel safely, live healthily, and return home to their families. Civil engineering itself is nothing but structured service to others.”
V. Losing the Ego, Finding Purpose
As civil engineering students at Purwanchal Campus, it is easy to get caught up in the rat race, GPA scores, career prospects, individual recognition, and social media perfection. We spend so much energy worrying about who we are and what we will achieve.
Yet, as the five of us rode the bus back to Dharan that evening, watching the lush green tea gardens and trees of Jhapa fade into the twilight, a fundamental truth became crystal clear:
Self-discovery is not an exercise in self-absorption. You do not find yourself by staring endlessly into a mirror or endlessly curating your personal image in front of grand monuments, real or replica. You find yourself when you forget your ego, step outside your self-centered thoughts, and offer your time, hands, and heart to help someone else.
When you lose yourself in service, whether it is as small as aiding a stranger in a park or as grand as building safe roads for isolated communities, the clutter of self-doubt and anxiety melts away. What remains is your true core: empathy, capability, and purpose.
That day at Happyland in Surunga gave us more than just a gallery of photos in front of the Taj Mahal replica. It gave Sarshan, Sanjog, Upendra, Sanjib, and me (Samyog) a compass for life and for our future careers as engineers. We left Dharan that morning as five students looking for a fun photo-op; we returned as five friends who understood what it truly means to build a meaningful life.
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