A Dedicated Time for Rest - Nyepi - a day of Silence

 One meditation practice suggests taking a designated time for rest—free from your phone, work, or any other distractions. This is your personal time, meant to disconnect from worries about work or household chores.

It begins with short daily meditations and gradually builds to dedicating an afternoon each week or even a half-day each month to simply rest and recharge.

But it got me thinking—how many of us actually have the luxury to truly rest, to quiet our minds and not "do" something for a set period? In reality, our lives are overflowing with responsibilities. Even if you try to sit still for a moment, your mind often races with an endless to-do list, household tasks, past memories, or future plans.

Whenever I hear the phrase "self-care," I think about mothers who are full-time caregivers, especially those raising children with special needs. For them, even basic self-care like taking a shower or eating a meal in peace can feel like a luxury. They’re constantly on high alert, watching for potential accidents. For some, the challenges are even greater -destructive behaviors in children, adding to an already overwhelming level of stress. It’s a heavy burden, and the idea of setting aside time for rest might seem impossible for many.

The concept of rest or self care isn’t easy to achieve,  but we all find our “Pause” may be a quiet cup of tea, or payers or simple mindful breath. I know couple of mothers in Desi moms Network who wake up too early in the morning to have that quiet time.

Rest isn’t one-size-fits-all, and for caregivers it might look different. But understanding one’s need and acknowledging  it is important. That is a first step in reclaiming your life.

What is your pause?

A silk saree - Monday blues turned into fun. Got ready in record time and was in the car by 6 AM. This was my way of “resting”.  

Read about Nyepi - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyepi

The full moon last week - My walk was my personal time

Reconnecting the Village: Finding Purpose in a Growing Community

 A few years ago, when our group was much smaller, it was easier to connect, call, and remember everyone. I knew all the moms, their families, and their stories. I used to drive and meet one-on-one, call moms on my way back from work, and organize moms' dinners at various locations.

But things changed as the group grew, and I feel like I’m losing the connection I once had with the moms in the group. While moms are certainly connecting and building their village, it’s not in the way I envisioned. I miss the personal, face-to-face connections, the follow-up calls, and the effort to match moms with similar profiles, towns, or needs.

I know some have found connections, friendships, and more, and I’m so glad for that. But my heart aches for those still in their shell, living under the rock, and trying to manage everything on their own. They’re in the group but not benefiting as much as they could.

I wonder if this village is truly useful for everyone. For families with very young kids still struggling with a diagnosis or those with kids who have more abilities and busier lives, the group might not feel as relevant. Many moms seem lost, just surviving day by day, while some simply hope their kids will grow out of the challenges.

I wish I could make those follow-up calls, meet these moms, hear their concerns, and connect them with the right resources.and help them find their footing.

Perhaps it's time to rethink how this village works for everyone—whether they’re at the beginning of their journey, navigating challenges, or finding a new rhythm. My heart is with those who feel unseen, still struggling in silence. I hope we can build bridges for them, so every mom feels supported and empowered to thrive.

Help me create a community that lifts everyone, no matter where they are in their journey.

A Narayan peth saree for a Diwali get together. 

A fundraiser for National Braille Press @Fenway Park - the power of community 

Pinkchair Story Teller Reception – A Reunion with a Purpose

Pinkchair Story Teller hosted a reception in honor of the nine of us featured in their advocacy issue. It’s surprising to think that just a few months ago, I hadn’t met or even heard of these women.

We first gathered in July for the cover photo shoot, where we got to know each other and learn about one another's work. It was an amazing day. We spent hours hanging out, joking, and looking our best while a talented photographer captured us in her studio.

The editor and publisher decided to host a reception in our honor. Held in a school auditorium in Quincy, the event brought together a warm and appreciative crowd, along with incredibly generous hosts and guests, and fabulous food and drinks. It was wonderful to see friends and family gathered to celebrate us.

Working in the nonprofit sector or supporting underprivileged communities can be overwhelming and tiring. There are days when it feels like thankless work, but moments like this remind us why we must keep going. The encouragement and love we received that day reaffirmed our purpose.

I am deeply grateful to my village. They showed up to cheer me on, support me, and remind me that I matter to them.

A “pink banarasi” for an unforgettable day celebrating my village.

My speech 

What a fabulous evening! I am so honored to be here with all of you tonight. A big thank you to Marcy and Bridget for making this possible.

I’m truly in awe of everyone in this room. Let’s give a round of applause for all the inspirational women here! And Stephanie, thank you for making me look this beautiful; the photoshoot will always be one of my most cherished memories.

Tonight, I have a question for you: How many of you can say you have a friend who truly understands you? Someone who knows your fears, insecurities, nightmares, and dreams? If you call her your bestie, do you know what her favorite destination is, what brings her joy, does she keep you grounded, supports your vision? And can she read your mind? On one of your craziest days, would she help you hide a body and be your alibi? And vice versa.

Think about that. Let it sit for 24 hours, and then make a list. Do you have an advocate, a connector, a mentor, a confidant, or a fun friend in your life?

If I asked you to introduce yourself in just five lines, where would you start? Now, what if I asked you to exclude your husband, children, and work from those lines—could you still describe your identity beyond those roles? Sit on that thought too.

Years ago, I was at a crossroads. I had a wonderful village, but after my son’s Autism diagnosis, I felt the absence of a friend who could see and understand the vulnerable mother in me. And then, a few came along, and my life changed. That gratitude became my guiding force.

A few years later, that feeling led me to create a village for moms of children with special needs. It was important to build friendships as women, not just as mothers. Those connections became lifelong friendships, and with that came the support, family, and resources.

In 2017, I started building a community for Indian moms of children with special needs. I wanted this village to be more than just a support group; I wanted it to be a circle of friendships beyond our roles as moms. That foundation has fostered lasting friendships and allowed us to build a circle of support.

Tonight, I encourage you to think about who you are as a person. Do you connect with someone as an individual or just as a mom, a wife, or a colleague?

I urge you to build your village, be there for one another, pay it forward, and find joy in these connections.

I am endlessly grateful for my village, my family, my parents, my sisters, and the Pandey men, who drive me crazy but inspire me to be a better version of myself every day. I couldn’t be who I am without their love, support and never ending arguments.

Thank you once again for having me here tonight.

The links to YouTube 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLWk3r-xnc8

 and 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyWnD6qp4y0

Our Amazing editors 

 

Election Saga - a different outcome for everyone - Our story

 I have always believed that politics and religion can bring out both the best and the worst in us, and in the last three elections, the latter has been painfully obvious. This election was particularly polarizing and divisive. Friendships were broken, there were bitter exchanges, and countless arguments took place in real life and on social media — and that’s just the beginning. I can see countless reasons why things didn’t go as many hoped, and the extreme reactions are proof of the frustration.

But in my household, something different happened. Last time, I don’t remember having detailed discussions about the election. We all voted by mail due to COVID, and it was Anand’s first time voting.

This time, Dad and Ajey voted by mail, but I chose to vote in person and encouraged Anand to do the same. I wanted to feel the power of exercising my right to vote and wanted him to experience it too. He’s a visual learner, so voting in person was the best way for it to make sense to him.

The night before, we talked through the ballot. I explained the five presidential candidates, the local elections, and the ballot questions. I didn’t know much about local politics, so I followed my party, but those five questions required discussion. Ajey, my historian and guide, had different views on a couple of them, so the three of us discussed our options.

At the polling center, Anand felt right at home, as it was his high school. He walked confidently ahead, greeted people, and chatted with a mom he knew. We got our ballots and went through them together. He didn’t have the patience to read everything in detail, but a few prompts helped him make his choices quickly. 

The questions were more detailed on the ballot than in our conversation, so I showed him where to find the essence of each question, and he made his selections. He finished quickly and went out to the car while I chatted with poll volunteers, collected my sticker, and walked out feeling elated by the experience with Anand.

Whatever the outcome, it’s time to pull ourselves together, be kind, and move forward with life.

A beautiful kanjivaram for a bday party and a musical night. A gift from a family in Desi Moms Network. A special gift as the dad was the one who chose this saree for Jaya”Ji”. 

I wore it for their celebration and wore the same for the evening musical get together too. 

Finding Celebration in Food, Friends, and Memories - Amma style

 I never thought of not celebrating Diwali. It just didn’t feel right. This wasn’t my way of remembering Amma. For the last 20 years, we’ve welcomed friends (both Desi and Non-Desi) into our home, and Amma was always part of the celebration through letters, emails, phone conversations, and later, video calls.

This year was the same in many ways. Friends gathered, enjoyed the food and conversation, talked about Amma, and checked in on me. Throughout the evening, Someone was always around, asking about my family, sisters, and Papa, and sharing memories of Amma. She was here in 2006 for Diwali, and I am so grateful she got to see my village.

Unlike previous years, I kept things simple this time; the food was vegetarian, yet enough to feed everyone well. My sisters and I talked in the morning, and hearing Papa sound better was comforting.

Ajey recovering from his ankle fracture and surgery, is home and having him around made it even better. He had a great time chatting with everyone. Anand came out to greet everyone and then retired to his room for the night. Since it was Friday, everyone could relax and stay longer.

I’m grateful to have friends who understand my grief and surround me and my family with warmth and care.

A ikat Patola for Diwali, A gift from a friend.

Is There an Age for Grief - Diwali Celebration with a Void

A month ago, while chatting, I told a friend, "See you for Diwali." She paused for a few seconds and then asked, "I was wondering if you would do Diwali this year." I was a bit taken aback, but she had a point. In many Indian families, when someone passes away, people often don’t celebrate festivals for a year.

It hadn’t even occurred to me to stop living my usual life. My perspective is that grief doesn’t have a set time limit, and a void isn’t going to disappear in one year. My mother wouldn’t have approved of everyone pausing their lives or not celebrating. She was one of the most enthusiastic people you’d ever meet. I think she would want her daughters to live fully, just as she did—full of life.

What’s your take on this? I know many people don’t celebrate anything for a year to mourn and avoid festivities without the deceased person. But how is it that things can just return to normal in a year? Who decided there should be a timeline for grief?

I miss my mother, and not just this Diwali. Nothing is the same without her, and I feel like a different person entirely. But my friends, who’ve been coming to my house for years, will still come. We’ll enjoy the food and each other's company, talk about our families and kids, share the changes we’re going through, complain about getting older, and remember the old days. My mother will be missed in more ways than I can count.

A kanjivaram for a friend’s mom’s 75th Bday party. We didn't do anything special for mom's 75th. She was celebrated every year. 

Power of giving back to community -

For several years now, I have been donating my Indian cooking lessons to various fundraisers for different organizations. This gives me a chance to introduce my heritage and cuisine to new families, which brings me so much joy. I’ve met some amazing people through food. At last year’s Gala for the Federation for Children with Special Needs, a dear friend contributed a generous amount to secure my cooking lesson raffle.

It’s been a difficult year with my mom’s passing, and I wasn’t in a position to do any of the fun things I usually enjoy. But finally, after months, we found a date to hold the cooking lesson.

We met to go over the menu and grocery list, and soon the day arrived. My friend decided to cook in advance and invited six more couples to enjoy the meal. This was such a brilliant idea! These wonderful people rarely get the chance to spend time together in a relaxed setting. They usually meet for work, with agendas, meetings and events, but this gave them an opportunity to enjoy a meal and get to know each other better.

The food turned out well, everyone enjoyed the meal, I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with everyone, chatting about food, saris, culture, and so many things about India.

The best part was that Anand agreed to go and hang out there with me. He was there for more than six hours, went for a walk, changed, ate with everyone, and spent some time chatting and he enjoyed the food as well . Even if he wasn’t the most active participant, I was just happy that he was there.

A Banarasi sari for an afternoon with a saree friend. 

She got a copy of Pink Chair magazine for all the guests—a truly awesome gesture