Small Efforts, Bigger Impact: The Power of Collective Action

How do you measure a contribution? How do you evaluate your role in a larger plan, and the impact of your efforts on that broader vision? I recently attended a Board of Directors retreat, where we spent the entire day discussing policy changes, the state of American politics, and the future of all nonprofits—mental health providers included. We were all concerned about the present, but we were also reminded that things were never truly in the right place, even 50 years ago. Even in the darkest of times, it’s one step at a time.

In these uncertain times while we can’t predict the outcome or decide on a single course of action, we know one thing for sure: we must keep moving forward.

After 2016 election, when everything seemed to fall apart, my eldest child said something to me that resonated deeply: "The darkest times create more social awareness. People take their social responsibilities more seriously and commit to causes."

I see this shift happening within the Desi Moms Network. More and more mothers are becoming interested in understanding policies, the school system, and the importance of awareness when advocating for their children. It's an inspiring change.

Two mothers from the group recently enrolled in the Parent Consultant Training Institute (PCTI), run by the Federation for Children with Special Needs. It’s a 60 plus-hour commitment. One of these mothers has a baby only a few months old, yet she was determined to learn more to better support her 10-year-old daughter. I am so proud of her dedication.

This is exactly what we need in these times—people who are not only aware of the challenges, but who are actively seeking knowledge and tools to create change. It's a reminder that even when things seem uncertain or daunting, we can always take action, one step at a time.

As a community, as parents, as advocates, our contributions may sometimes feel small in the grand scheme of things, but they add up. They spark awareness, inspire action, and can ultimately drive change. Together, we can help build a better future for the next generation, even when the road ahead is unclear.

A silk saree for the retreat. 

Beyond the Bias: A Journey Through Surat's Cultural Diversity - Ramadan Market

I didn’t know if society needs extremism for its growth, but it exists everywhere. We live with our biases, often unknowingly and sometimes knowingly. Prejudices guide the way we behave, follow our traditions, culture, and family values, and dictate how we live our lives.

I am visiting Surat, staying with a dear friend, and experiencing life in this city. It’s a port city with a business-dominated community and is the fabric capital of India. Fabric mills and diamonds are the biggest industries in the city. It’s located in the northwestern part of India, so it is heavily influenced by Muslim and Persian cultures. I visited the Raman market, which was something I witnessed for the first time in my life. We drove to another part of Surat to eat a very typical Iftaree. Muslims fast the whole day and eat only after sunset. The whole street came alive, with food everywhere and very long lines to eat. And it wasn’t just Muslims in line to eat the tasty food. I’m not sure what happens during the day or early morning before sunrise, but the evening experience was one of a kind. There were a lot of young kids playing, giggling, and laughing. People were eating with their families. I did not see many Muslim women, but I saw a lot of non-Muslim women—basically, a lot of people like me who were there for the food and fun.

And yes, if you are a vegetarian, please eat at home, as there is nothing for you there—no salad, no fruits, no vegetables. I ate to my heart's content, and then we drove to another part of Surat, which was dominated by Bora Muslims. They are another sect of Islam and follow Syedna, their spiritual leader. Surat is the hub for them. The atmosphere, the people—everything—was entirely different from what I had experienced half an hour earlier. The Boras are one of the most educated and well-to-do families in India.

A very dear friend in Boston belongs to that community, so I know about their philosophy. But witnessing it firsthand in their home was an entirely different experience. Even in these two places, not for a single minute did I feel any religious extremism. I definitely did not look like one of them, but people responded to my greetings, made way for me, and courteously answered my silly questions. They took my pictures when I asked and treated me with gentle smiles.

It made me wonder: Are we really any different? Why is it hyped that certain areas are unsafe to visit? Why are women advised not to go alone? Would I have gone on my own if not with a friend? I don’t know how to emphasize the importance of going and experiencing other festivals, lifestyles, and the way people behave in their own habitats. Those happy, smiling young children were no different from Hindu children celebrating Diwali or Holi. Why does religion divide people? Why is it so hard to trust that everyone believes in harmony and wants the best for their children?

A Night Out in Bangalore: Celebrating Women’s Day in a New Light

 Even with long flight, jet lag and tiredness, after a one-hour nap during the day, by evening, we decided to go out.Technically, I should have been in bed by that time, but I was excited to explore Bangalore. We left home after 9 , and thanks to the timing, we managed to avoid traffic.

After making a list of happening places we decided to hang out at Kaavu, a bar and restaurant not very far from the home. 

What struck me right away was the energy in the air. I saw women, not just couples, hanging out together in smaller and bigger groups. The atmosphere felt liberating—women enjoying themselves freely and safely at night, something that felt refreshing. There were some families, some children, but the majority were younger professionals. It felt like a different India—one where women are empowered to enjoy life without fear. 

After that, we went to my favorite place, Rameshwaram Café, around midnight. 

Rameshwaram Café, with its vibrant vibe, made it feel like the city never sleeps. The café doesn’t have seating arrangements; the idea is to come in and go out. But people found space to sit wherever they could. 

Most of the crowd was young, enjoying a cup of coffee, some snacks, or indulging in ice cream and dessert while catching up with friends. It was the perfect way to unwind on a Saturday night.

 I am in awe and  I’m so proud of what I saw. The perfect feeling on Women’s day. Even though I don’t typically buy into the idea of celebrating specific days. But, I understand that if it takes a day to draw attention, so be it. I hope we are all supporting, enriching, and educating our daughters to be fierce, independent, and, above all, good human beings..

A khun saree for a saree meet right before my travel.

Rameshwaram cafe - The Name - to pay tribute to Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, as Rameshwaram is his birthplace.

Kaavu is vast and scattered, so it didn’t feel crowded. I took pictures of the quiet areas to avoid making people uncomfortable. But Rameshwaram had a completely different vibe—loud and vibrant

Amma ki Chitthiyan - Letters from my mom

 I love organizing, but when it comes to cleaning, I always lack motivation. I start with good intentions, but then get stuck organizing things, and the original task remains unfinished. My bathroom and floors might be dirty, but my pantry and linen closet will be organized. They were, anyway, in better shape than the kitchen and bathroom to begin with.

I get frustrated, and because I’m not 100% into it, the mess piles up for the next day. Yesterday, I decided to clean one drawer at a time, and then this happened: I found a bag full of letters, most of which were written by Amma. A few were from my sisters, papa, and a couple from my in-laws. I started reading, and time just flew by.

It's hard for many people to understand now how important these letters were, as they were the only way to know things in detail. Amma wrote regularly, and so did I. Sometimes, my sisters would get a photocopy of my letters to Amma and Papa, especially after the kids were born.

Amma had beautiful handwriting. She wrote consistently, keeping me informed about family, friends, and our town. She shared details about our garden, our neighbors, and asked many questions about our lives away from them—especially how badly she missed her grandkids.

Reading these letters made me miss her even more—so many memories and emotions came flooding back. The time difference and distance didn’t matter. These letters are a bridge to the past, a way to keep Amma’s memories alive.

A silk contemporary Ikat for a ladies get together.