Grief and Gratitude on a Saturday Afternoon- Honoring Amma

Two years have gone by—two years without her physical presence, her phone calls, her love, her laughter, and her care.

The Shradh was performed for my mother’s second death anniversary according to the Hindu calendar in the beginning of March, but yesterday—the calendar day—was particularly hard for me.

It was a tough day to begin with. I hosted a bowling afternoon with 12 mothers from the Desi Moms Network, spending time together, having fun, and building connections. They initially came together because they knew one another through the needs of their children, but they went home with the feeling of being part of a village. They spent the afternoon eating, sharing stories, and making a promise to do more activities together, be there for one another, and meet again often.

Yesterday morning began with an introduction to a new mom in my town, 3 miles from my home. I usually talk to them first then a video call before adding them to the group. After bowling, instead of coming home, I drove to meet them in person. Both the mother and her son were home, and it was wonderful to see them in their natural setting, talking about family, India connections, day-to-day struggles, neighbors, and our towns.

Another family from the group lives in the same neighborhood, so I visited them too. They have been in the group for a few years; with three young kids and full-time jobs, life can be really chaotic. These short visits help me understand family dynamics and their specific needs, allowing me to provide better resources.

My mother would have been so happy to hear all these details. I miss her, but I’m sure she’s somewhere smiling down on me. I think this was my way of paying tribute to her on her departure day.

March 28th, 2026 

A silk for a musical meet

An "Auntie’s" Night Out in "Don’t Tell Aunty"

On a lazy Friday, a mother from the Desi Moms Network reached out and insisted I join them for a Bollywood night in the city. It isn’t something I usually do, and I was a little apprehensive, but I decided to go along anyway.

Our group grew until six of us from the area, plus two from elsewhere, met in Boston’s Back Bay (4 of us from Desi Moms Network). The venue's name, "Don’t Tell Aunty,” was catchy, and the fusion menu looked truly innovative. Being a self-proclaimed "old-age auntie" now, I can’t really eat that late at night, but that didn’t stop me from having fun. I’ll definitely have to go back for lunch soon to try the food!

After 10 PM, they move the tables to create a dance floor. While the opening DJ didn't quite hit the right vibe for our group, the energy transformed the moment the main DJ came on the floor—one of the owners of the establishment. It was such a pleasant surprise to bump into the DJ's sister and brother-in-law, whom I’ve known for over 20 years.

The dancing was fun, but the best part was seeing these moms dancing without a care in the world. We were surrounded by a much younger crowd, but it didn’t matter; we had our own bubble. Just past midnight, we said goodbye to the full-blown party and drove back from Boston. I’m so glad one of the mothers planned the night and insisted I join; I couldn’t have done it without her.

I spent some time chatting with the girl at the door, the security guy, a mom and daughter duo from New Jersey, and a fellow attendee. It’s clear that Bollywood night is incredibly popular with the younger generation. They miss home—the familiarity and the environment. This DJ provides exactly that; beyond the nostalgia, he serves comfort food like creative Maggi dishes (Noodles) that hit home.

In a room full of younger faces, I realized that joy has no age limit. I came home tired, but my heart was full—and I’m already looking forward to the next dance with the moms from the Desi Moms Network.

Looking back, I realized that for me, it was not the music or nostalgia; it was a reminder that self-care is not just a spa or tea—it can be loud music and the joy of dancing, it’s the radical act of showing up for yourself. I am so glad that night we remembered the person we were before the "auntie" or "mom" took over. 

 With our planner, driver and motivator for the night

Saree for a bhajan saree meet, i was there more for Bhojan than bhajan . I was dancing on Dam Maro Dam a night before 

Walking in Amma’s Shoes - The inheritance of Joy and Pain

This morning, I was driving to work in the wee hours, thinking about my mother. Last weekend, a friend noticed the way I was walking because of my knee pain and it reminded me of my Amma and her constant knee pain. My brother-in-law always said I walk just like her.

She was only a couple of years older than I am now when she visited us in 2006. We drove approximately 13,000 miles during the five months she and my father were here. We traveled a lot, and it was her enthusiasm that kept us going. Every night before bed, she would take two Tylenol, massage her legs, and be ready for the next adventure the following morning.

I wish I had known then to give her that Tylenol before we even hopped in the car, so she didn't have to deal with the pain. I wouldn't have changed anything about our travels, but I would have taken her to see more sunsets and sunrises, more vsthe blooming Esplanade, Dahlia gardens, the farmers market, and sat with her in a café on Howard Square. Those small pleasures would have made her so happy.

With my own hurting knees and acid reflux, I miss her even more. My health has declined over the last couple of years, and I understand physical limitations much better than I did 20 years ago. She was heavy and loved good food and snacks; I am exactly the same. Losing weight is an uphill battle.

Like her,  I pour myself into the people I love Like her, I treasure my connections, but I also expect reciprocity;. And like her, I want to experience joy, happiness, and new things. I admire her courage, enthusiasm, and strength now more than ever. As I turn 55, I am no longer just her daughter - I am becoming her. 

A tussar silk for a muscal evening

From Skylines to Bowling Alleys: A Women’s Day Reflection

For years, I scoffed at these "Hallmark card" holidays. In my logic, I always asked: why do we need one specific day to celebrate love on Valentine’s Day? Why do mothers and fathers only get one day? And now, in recent years, International Women’s Day has started making headlines too.

As I grow older, however, I realize these days act as a "pause"—a moment to think and reflect. These specific celebrations give us an opportunity to express emotions that we might otherwise take for granted.

I was recently invited by a local organization 

(Foundation of Indian Americans (FIA) New England) to be honored for Women’s Day. I’ve come to realize that these honors are actually a powerful way to reach out to families. If just one person in the crowd listens to what I do and reaches out to another family in need of support, that is enough for me.

A fine group of women gathered in the heart of the city, at the magnificent Prudential Tower—one of the tallest buildings in Boston. On a gloomy day, I drove into the city not knowing quite what to expect. I arrived on time, but since it was an Indian get-together, everyone else arrived on "Indian time" :) That actually gave me a wonderful chance to hang out and chat with the other guests.

I met the Deputy Consul General in Boston, a woman from Karnataka wearing a beautiful Mysore silk saree. As a mother to a two-year-old daughter, she spoke about her hopes and aspirations for her child. In her official posting, she is breaking glass ceilings in so many ways. It was inspiring to listen to stories of women moving forward with such conviction and passion.

I was honored for my work with the Desi Mom’s Network. Ironically, after the event, I drove off to hang out with some of the dads from the group. I have been hosting events for moms for years, and while getting the dads together always seemed difficult, it finally fell into place. Seventeen dads, including my husband, met up for bowling.

One of them joked that instead of celebrating Women’s Day, they were busy enjoying a "Dads' Evening." But as they hung out, they talked to one another about their children, services, and their difficulties.

The morning was joyous and humbling, but the evening was deeply fulfilling.It turns out that celebrating women isn't just about the honors we receive; it’s about the communities we build that finally allow everyone—moms and dads alike—to find their place. 

A silk saree gift from a dear friend. 

The Journey from an Idea to a Community - A celebration of belonging

What happens when you are all alone in your journey? You pick up the pieces and start walking. You make a path and move forward.

Somewhere in the journey, you stop, breathe, and look back. You always remember how you felt in the beginning—scared, all alone, without any direction. You use this feeling to guide you and make your own path, but you never forget how it felt.

Sometimes that feeling becomes an idea, and soon the idea turns into a dream, and then you work to make it a reality. Every time I meet a mother who is doing something extraordinary, there is always that drive behind her actions—not to let anybody else feel the way she once did.

Oanh, a dear friend, started the Vietnamese support group years ago. As a single mother and an immigrant woman who came from Vietnam to give her daughter a better life in America, she knew how difficult life could be. She was determined to make it easier for other families. I am so proud to call her my friend.

She built this group from scratch, and now it supports hundreds of families. I was invited to the New Year’s celebration again this year. It was such a joy to see so many families together, enjoying and celebrating the New Year in a judgment-free place.

The MCs did a wonderful job—one in Vietnamese and the other in English. There were beautiful cultural programs and amazing Vietnamese food. Oanh has created an army of volunteers who made this a perfect event.

Meeting some friends from this world is always a bonus at these events. All these moms have made the world better in their own way. I am so proud to have them in my life.

My favorite part was the kids’ fashion show. They all walked in a line wearing beautiful outfits—the stars of the day in their own unique way. Watching those children walk with such confidence, I couldn’t help but think how far one idea can travel. What started with one mother’s determination has now become a community where so many families feel seen, supported, and celebrated. 

My rock star friend Oanh 

An Ikat for the celebration and yes there was so much snow on the ground but nothing can stop me from wearing a saree for a special day.

Someone was having so much fun