IN THE SHADOW OF DEPARTURE: A DEEP DIVE INTO UTSARGA

 

Sanu Sharma’s novel Utsarga was published in 2021, is a quiet but powerful literary work that explores the emotional complexities of children growing up in the absence of their parents due to foreign labor migration. At a time when Nepali society continues to grapple with the social costs of economic migration, Utsarga stands out as a deeply introspective and socially conscious narrative that gives voice to a generation of children who are often seen but rarely heard.

The story revolves around Arya, a teenage girl whose parents have gone abroad to work, leaving her in the care of relatives and various hostels. While she is provided for in material terms, the emotional support and affection that are essential for a child’s growth are tragically lacking. Arya’s journey is one of emotional isolation, unspoken questions, and internal battles. The absence of her parents does not merely signify physical distance—it symbolizes a rupture in her identity and in the emotional fabric of her life. Throughout the novel, readers are invited into Arya’s mind, where loneliness, confusion, and a yearning for connection persistently shape her worldview.

Sharma does not dramatize the events in Arya’s life; instead, she carefully and thoughtfully portrays the slow, painful process of emotional neglect. This subtle and restrained approach gives the novel a quiet strength. Arya is not depicted as overtly rebellious or victimized, but rather as a complex, intelligent young girl struggling to make sense of her circumstances. Her internal monologues and reflections form the core of the novel, offering readers an unfiltered look at how a child interprets abandonment and the silence that follows it.

One of the most powerful aspects of Utsarga is how it captures the impact of broken trust within a family. Arya tries to hold onto the belief that her parents love her and have made sacrifices for her future, but this belief constantly clashes with the reality of their absence. The novel asks difficult questions: Is financial support enough to raise a child? Can emotional distance be justified by economic necessity? Through Arya’s disillusionment and longing, Sharma reveals how trust is eroded—not by one singular event, but by the accumulation of unmet emotional needs, unanswered questions, and years of feeling unseen.

The broader social commentary in Utsarga is skillfully woven into Arya’s personal story. Sharma does not lecture or moralize, but the reader cannot help but reflect on the widespread phenomenon of children in Nepal being raised by others while their parents work in foreign lands. The emotional toll on these children is rarely addressed in public discourse, and Utsarga serves as a powerful reminder that the nation’s economic lifeline—remittance—comes with a human cost. Arya becomes a symbol of that cost: a girl shaped not only by who loves her, but by who is absent when she needs them most.

Sanu Sharma’s writing is elegant and emotionally resonant. Her use of simple yet evocative language allows Arya’s voice to come through with clarity and sincerity. The first-person narrative draws the reader in, making Arya’s internal struggles feel intimate and real. There are no unnecessary flourishes in Sharma’s prose; instead, her strength lies in her ability to express complex emotions with quiet precision. The tone of the novel remains reflective throughout, marked by a kind of emotional honesty that lingers long after the final page is turned.

Though not filled with dramatic twists or external conflicts, Utsarga is rich in psychological depth. Its strength lies in its authenticity—in its refusal to sensationalize or simplify the experience of abandonment. The novel’s pacing may feel slow to readers seeking a traditional plot-driven narrative, but those who appreciate introspective fiction will find Utsarga to be a rewarding and deeply moving read.

In conclusion, Utsarga is a beautifully written novel that gives emotional depth and dignity to the often invisible struggles of children left behind by labor migration. Through Arya’s quiet resilience and emotional awakening, Sanu Sharma offers both a personal and collective reflection on love, loss, and the enduring human need for connection. It is a book that not only tells a story but also opens a conversation—one that Nepali society urgently needs to have.