The Snow is Singing is an experimental, multi-generational film that explores how cultural genocide, forced displacement, and intergenerational trauma echo across time, place, and identity. Centered on the Nepali-speaking Bhutanese community in the United States—one of the most overlooked refugee narratives of the 20th century—the film examines both the personal and collective aftermath of exile, while drawing attention to unresolved political tensions and deep psychological scars.
During the 1980s and 1990s, more than 100,000 ethnic Nepali Lhotshampas were forcibly expelled from Bhutan. Labeled as “illegal immigrants” in their own homeland, they suffered killings, torture, rape, forced disappearances, and life imprisonment. Many witnessed their homes burned, livestock slaughtered, and family members brutalized. Known as Lhotsampa in Dzongkha—meaning “people of the lowlands”—they lived in refugee camps in Nepal for over a decade before being resettled in countries like the United States, Canada, and Australia through the United Nations’ third-country resettlement program.
Even after resettlement, the trauma persists. Bhutanese Americans—many of whom were born in exile or have never seen Bhutan—continue to carry the weight of their parents' and grandparents’ memories. Children born in the U.S. inherit the emotional aftermath of violence and loss through oral histories and cultural silence. The Bhutanese refugee community in the United States now suffers one of the highest suicide rates among refugee groups—more than double the national average.
Adding to this pain, a new and terrifying chapter has emerged. Bhutanese refugees who legally entered the U.S. through UN resettlement have been deported back to Bhutan. In a disturbing turn, Bhutan refused to receive them and redirected them to India—where they crossed into Nepal and were immediately arrested. These individuals now exist in a legal and political limbo, with no country willing to accept them. This unfolding crisis has reawakened communal trauma and instilled fresh fear, even among U.S. citizens and green card holders. For many, it feels like history repeating itself: once rejected by Bhutan, they now question whether they are truly safe anywhere.
The Snow is Singing enters this layered emotional and political landscape. The film follows a Bhutanese American family as they confront generational pain, shifting identities, and the fragile illusion of safety. At its heart is a young boy who, through his drawings, begins to process the ancestral trauma passed down to him. As his grandparents share stories of exile, the child’s imagination becomes a powerful visual language—blurring memory and metaphor.
Blending realism with theatrical storytelling, the film weaves personal narratives with poetic metaphors, expressive movement, and the raw textures of everyday life. The camera becomes a vessel of memory—shifting between documentary-style realism and dreamlike abstraction to evoke the lingering emotional weight of exile. The narrative unfolds through experimental form: a drama within the drama, a community's theatrical performance protesting the King of Bhutan’s visit to the U.S., and a child’s sketches that serve as a haunting visual thread.
The film also critiques the contradictions of U.S. immigration policies, which at times mirror the very injustices they claim to offer refuge from. It challenges the polished image of Bhutan as the “happiest country in the world,” peeling back that facade to reveal the silenced stories of its displaced citizens.
While rooted in the specificity of the Bhutanese refugee experience, The Snow is Singing resonates with global histories of forced migration—from the Partition of India to the Syrian Civil War, the Rwandan Genocide, and the displacement of Ukrainians today. In all these cases, the consequences of war, persecution, and erasure are not confined to one generation—they echo through families, across borders, and into futures still being shaped.
The Snow is Singing is more than a film—it is a cinematic hymn to memory, grief, and survival. It is about children who inherit traumas they never lived, and old men who didn’t grow up admiring snow-covered hills, but remember them as the backdrop to their homes being burned, their pets killed, and their loved ones assaulted. And it is about communities who sing—not out of joy, but to keep from forgetting.
Note
The Snow is Singing is adapted from the play Hitlor is Coming, a critically acclaimed theatrical work developed over 15 years ago in Nepal and India. The play was originally created by prominent theatre artist Bimal Subedi in collaboration with the film’s director. It emerged from extensive research and interviews with Bhutanese refugees, capturing the oral histories, traumas, and lived experiences of a displaced community whose stories remain largely undocumented or erased from Bhutanese history.
Hitlor is Coming received widespread acclaim and was honored with prestigious awards, including the Mahindra Excellence in Theatre Awards (META), one of India’s most distinguished recognitions in theater. In 2024, the play was reimagined and staged in the United States, with performances in cities such as Akron, Ohio and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where it resonated deeply with local communities and was embraced with heartfelt appreciation.
The adaptation into film has been a long-gestating project, written and developed over more than a decade. The Snow is Singing honors and expands upon the theatrical roots of the original play, blending historical research, poetic storytelling, and visual metaphors to bring these hidden narratives to a broader audience.
Here is the trailer of the play: