Donkeys on the Dunki: The Foolish Chase for a Lavish Mirage
In the grand theater of human ambition, nothing beats the absurdity of those who willingly gallop into a pit of financial ruin, only to return home in shackles—broke, humiliated, and dumber than before.
The latest batch of Indian “dreamers” deported from the United States should serve as a grim reminder: chasing illegal migration through the infamous Dunki route is not just a risky gamble, but a colossal exercise in stupidity.
Imagine taking ₹50 lakh to ₹1 crore, an amount capable of setting up a thriving business in Punjab—dairy farms, textile units, food processing ventures, even tourism startups—and instead, choosing to hand it over to human traffickers, Mexican cartels, and unscrupulous middlemen. The result? A one-way ticket through dense jungles, ruthless smugglers, dehydration, robbery, and eventual arrest, culminating in a humiliating deportation. Instead of being self-made business owners, these so-called adventurers return as unemployed, indebted, and often, permanently blacklisted from entering legal migration routes. Who is to blame? No one but their own idiocy.
The Dunki dream—a self-inflicted nightmare—has ensnared thousands who, despite clear warnings, believe that illegally crossing into the U.S. guarantees them a spot in the American Dream Hall of Fame. What they fail to comprehend is that America is not a charity organization handing out jobs and green cards to lawbreakers. If they were smart enough to use their funds wisely, they wouldn’t be crawling through sewage pipes and bribing coyotes to enter a country that clearly doesn’t want them.
Let’s be blunt—there is no sympathy for those who voluntarily burn their money in the hope of living in a basement and flipping burgers under the table in some rundown New Jersey diner. If they had even a fraction of common sense, they would realize that the same amount of money could have funded a comfortable, respectable life in their homeland. But no, the sheer obsession with social status and “foreign living” has turned them into donkeys willingly marching toward their own misery.
Some argue that economic desperation drives these individuals to take such extreme steps. Really? If someone has the means to cough up ₹50 lakh for an illegal passage, they certainly aren’t the poorest of the poor. They are not refugees fleeing war or famine—they are greedy gamblers who believe breaking the law will make them rich overnight. And what do they get? Deportation, financial ruin, and public disgrace. Bravo!
It’s laughable how these deportees return crying foul, blaming everyone but themselves. They weren’t “unlucky”; they were just plain dumb. Their families, who mortgaged homes and sold land, now face the crushing burden of debt, while these failed migrants walk around as cautionary tales in their villages—symbols of what happens when you prioritize stupidity over sense.
The irony is bitter. While these Dunki desperados return to square one—jobless, broke, and socially shamed—others who invested similar funds in legal avenues are thriving. Those who used their capital wisely—setting up local businesses, leveraging government schemes, or opting for legitimate foreign work visas—are the real winners. Meanwhile, the donkeys who took the Dunki are back where they started, only this time with nothing to show but a deportation stamp and a lifetime of debt.
To those still considering this illegal path: wake up before you too become the village idiot with a deportation story no one respects. The American Dream is built on effort, not shortcuts. If you want to succeed, use your brain, not your blind desperation.
