



















Saturday, Jul 04, 2026 16:45 [IST]
Last Update: Saturday, Jul 04, 2026 11:18 [IST]
Walk into
any home in Gangtok, Namchi, or Geyzing on a weekday morning and you will
probably find the same thing — a young person at a desk, surrounded by civil
service guides, GK books, and last year's exam papers. They hold degrees. Some
of them are genuinely brilliant. But instead of working, they are waiting.
Waiting for the next recruitment notification, the next vacancy list, the next
shot at a government job that may or may not arrive.
This is
not a new story in Sikkim. The pull of a sarkari naukri runs deep here,
deeper than most people care to admit. And it makes sense, if you look at the
history. For decades, the public sector was almost the only place in these
hills where a young person could find stable, decent-paying work. That reality
shaped an entire generation's understanding of what success looks like — a
government desk, a fixed salary, a pension. Parents who lived through uncertain
times naturally passed that preference down, and it stuck.
The
problem is that the world has moved on, but the mindset has not fully caught
up.
Today,
thousands of educated young Sikkimese are stuck in a bottleneck — not because
they lack ability, but because they are all chasing a finite number of public
vacancies. Government recruitment does not expand to meet demand. It never did.
So the more people prepare exclusively for it, the worse the odds get, and the
longer the wait. Years go by. The most energetic, creative phase of a person's
working life quietly slips away in a preparation cycle that may never end with
the outcome they hoped for.
This is
the quiet cost the state is paying for its sarkari obsession — and it is not a
small one.
To his
credit, Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) has been direct about this. He
has repeatedly pushed Sikkim's youth to look beyond government service — to
take risks, plan carefully, and build something of their own. What makes this more
than just advice is that his government has actually put money and structure
behind the idea. The Mukhyamantri Yuva Udhyamsheelta Vikas Yojna and the Chief
Minister Employment Fund are not just names on a scheme list. They offer real
support — 50% grants on project costs, subsidised loans of up to ?25 lakh
routed through District Industries Centres. For a young person with an idea but
no capital, that kind of backing is significant. Programmes like Sikkim
INSPIRES and CM-ELEVATE have added more layers to this push, trying to build an
actual environment where entrepreneurship feels like a real option rather than
a gamble.
The
direction is right. The question is whether society will follow where policy is
trying to lead.
Because
government schemes alone cannot break a cultural mindset. As long as a young
person who starts a small business is quietly looked down upon at family
gatherings — while their cousin who cleared a state exam is celebrated — the
obsession will hold. Change at that level does not come from a circular or a
notification. It comes slowly, from families beginning to see that a young
woman running a successful homestay in Pelling or a young man building a food
processing unit in Jorethang is not settling for less. They are choosing differently.
Sikkim's
economy is increasingly shaped by organic agriculture, sustainable tourism,
digital services, and small enterprises. The opportunities are real and they
are growing. But they will go to people who show up for them, not to people
still waiting for a vacancy list that may never come.
The
sarkari obsession gave previous generations a kind of security. But for today's
youth, it is quietly becoming a ceiling. Somewhere, that has to be said plainly
— and perhaps the best people to say it are the young Sikkimese who have
already stepped out and built something worth being proud of.
(Views
are personal. Email: cinturybhargavi11@gmail.com)
