In a world of dating apps, endless swiping, and “let’s see where the relationship goes,” one question quietly remains: How do you really know when you’ve found the one?

When your heart feels right and your mind agrees—when comfort meets clarity—that’s when a deeper thought arises: Should I book the venue?

In Hindu philosophy, this decision is far deeper than attraction or timing. Marriage is not merely a social contract—it is a sacred union of two souls walking together on the path of dharma. The ancient hymn of the Rig Veda 10.85 beautifully captures this essence:

“Walk together. Think together. Grow together.” — Rig Veda 10.85.

This is not just poetry—it is a blueprint for marriage. It reminds us that true partnership is about alignment in thought, purpose, and spiritual evolution.

The ritual of Sapta Padi—the seven sacred steps—further reinforces this idea. With each step, the couple makes a promise: to share responsibilities, support each other, and walk together in harmony for a lifetime.

Yet in today’s modern world, while lifestyles may have evolved, the essence of a meaningful relationship remains unchanged. Choosing a life partner is not about perfection—it is about alignment in values, emotional strength, and the ability to grow together.

If your relationship shows these signs, you may be on the verge of something sacred.

Here are 25 timeless signs—rooted in both modern wisdom and ancient Hindu teachings—that say one thing clearly: you’ve found your soulmate.These qualities reflect both modern wisdom and ancient Hindu teachings.

1. Emotional Maturity

A mature partner does not react impulsively but responds with awareness and calmness. Hindu philosophy emphasizes mastery over the mind as the foundation of peaceful living. As the Bhagavad Gita teaches,

“Master the mind, and the relationship finds peace.” — Bhagavad Gita

The vows of Sapta Padi encourage partners to walk together in harmony, which requires emotional stability. Without maturity, even small disagreements can disturb peace, leading to larger conflicts that can jeopardize the relationship’s harmony. Emotional maturity creates a steady foundation where both individuals feel secure. It reflects inner discipline, which is considered a virtue in dharmic living.

Emotional maturity creates stability, allowing both partners to feel secure even during challenging moments.

2. Honesty and Transparency

Truth (Satya) is one of the highest principles in Hinduism. The Vedas repeatedly emphasize that truth sustains relationships and society. A partner who practices honesty strengthens trust, which is essential for a lifelong bond. In Rig Veda 10.85, the couple is blessed to walk together with sincerity and openness. Transparency removes fear and doubt. When truth becomes the norm, the relationship becomes spiritually and emotionally strong.

3. Respect for Individuality

Hindu philosophy recognizes each soul (Atman) as unique and divine. A strong partner respects this individuality and does not attempt to dominate or suppress it. Marriage is not about losing oneself but about evolving together. The concept of Ardhanarishvara beautifully symbolizes balance between two identities. In Sapta Padi, partners promise companionship, not control. Respect for individuality allows both to grow while staying connected.

4. Strong Communication Skills

The Vedas emphasize dialogue (Sambhashan) as a tool for harmony. A partner who communicates effectively builds understanding and prevents misunderstandings. Listening is as important as speaking. In Hindu marriage rituals, sacred mantras are recited together, symbolizing shared communication. Open dialogue nurtures emotional closeness. Without communication, even strong relationships weaken over time, as partners may feel disconnected and misunderstand each other’s needs and feelings.

5. Loyalty and Commitment

Commitment is at the heart of Hindu marriage. The seven steps of Sapta Padi include vows of lifelong companionship and faithfulness. Loyalty is not just physical but emotional and spiritual. A committed partner stands by you through joy and adversity. This unwavering support creates trust. It reflects the dharmic duty of honoring relationships.

6. Kindness and Compassion

Compassion (Karuna) is a core value in Hindu teachings. A kind partner brings warmth and understanding into the relationship. The scriptures teach that treating others with compassion is a form of worship. In marriage, kindness transforms daily interactions into meaningful connections. It reduces conflict and builds emotional closeness, which promotes a greater sense of responsibility and commitment between partners. A compassionate partner fosters love in its most genuine form.

7. Sense of Responsibility

Hindu marriage is based on shared duties (Dharma). A responsible partner fulfills obligations toward family, society, and each other. The vows of Sapta Padi include commitments toward household stability and well-being. Responsibility ensures that life’s challenges are faced together. It creates reliability and trust. Without responsibility, relationships lack direction.

8. Shared Values

Shared values form the backbone of a harmonious life. In Hindu culture, alignment in dharma, family values, and life goals is considered essential. The couple in Rig Veda 10.85 is blessed to think alike and act together. When values align, decisions become easier. It prevents long-term conflicts. Shared values create unity in purpose.

9. Supportiveness

A supportive partner acts as a pillar of strength. Hindu teachings emphasize Sahadharma Charini—a spouse who walks with you in fulfilling life’s duties. Encouragement and support allow both partners to grow. In the sacred vows, partners promise to uplift each other. This mutual support builds confidence. It turns the relationship into a partnership of growth.

10. Sense of Humor

Joy (Ananda) is considered the essence of life in Hindu philosophy. A partner who brings laughter helps lighten life’s burdens. Humor reduces stress and strengthens bonds. Even in scriptures, life is seen as a balance of seriousness and joy. A cheerful relationship creates positive energy. It helps couples navigate challenges with grace.

11. Patience

Patience (Kshama) is a virtue praised in Hindu scriptures. A patient partner handles challenges with calmness and understanding. The journey of marriage, as symbolized in Sapta Padi, is long and requires endurance. Patience allows growth and healing. It prevents unnecessary conflicts. It is essential for long-term harmony.

12. Financial Awareness

While spirituality is central, Hindu life also acknowledges Artha (wealth) as one of the four goals of life. A financially aware partner manages resources wisely. Responsible handling of wealth ensures stability. The couple’s duties include maintaining household prosperity. Financial discipline prevents stress. It supports a balanced and secure life.

13. Adaptability

Life is ever-changing, as taught in Hindu philosophy. A flexible partner adapts to new circumstances with ease. Whether it is career, family, or life transitions, adaptability ensures resilience. The journey of marriage involves constant evolution. A rigid mindset can create conflict. Adaptability allows the relationship to grow harmoniously.

14. Emotional Availability

Emotional connection is essential for intimacy. A partner who is emotionally present builds deep trust. Hindu marriage is not just physical but emotional and spiritual. The sacred mantras encourage unity of hearts and minds. Emotional openness strengthens the bond. It creates a sense of belonging and connection.

15. Respect for Family and Relationships

Hindu culture places strong emphasis on family. A partner who respects relationships strengthens the social fabric by fostering trust, cooperation, and mutual support among family members and the community. Marriage is seen as a union of families, not just individuals. The blessings in Rig Veda 10.85 highlight harmony within the household. Respecting family fosters support and unity. It reflects cultural and emotional maturity.

16. Self-Confidence Without Ego

Confidence is valued, but ego (Ahankara) is discouraged in Hindu teachings, as it can lead to arrogance and conflict in relationships. A balanced partner believes in themselves without dominating others. Humility strengthens relationships. Confidence without ego creates mutual respect. It allows both partners to express themselves freely. This balance is essential for harmony.

17. Willingness to Grow

Growth (Vikas) is a continuous journey in life. A partner open to learning evolves with time. Hindu philosophy emphasizes self-improvement and spiritual progress. A relationship should also grow. Stagnation can weaken bonds. Growth ensures long-term compatibility and fulfillment.

18. Forgiveness

Forgiveness (Kshama) is considered a divine quality. A forgiving partner lets go of past mistakes. Hindu teachings encourage releasing negativity. Holding grudges creates suffering. Forgiveness heals and strengthens the relationship. It allows both partners to move forward with peace.

19. Reliability

Trust is built through consistent actions. A reliable partner fulfills promises and responsibilities. In Hindu marriage, vows are sacred commitments. Reliability reflects integrity and dedication. It creates emotional security. Dependability strengthens the foundation of the relationship.

20. Mutual Respect in Conflict

Conflict is natural, but respect must remain. Hindu teachings emphasize resolving differences with dignity. A partner who maintains respect during disagreements preserves harmony. The spirit of Sapta Padi encourages unity even in challenges. Respectful conflict resolution strengthens the bond. It prevents emotional damage.

21. Independence

Hindu philosophy values self-reliance alongside partnership. A healthy relationship includes two independent individuals. Independence prevents dependency and imbalance. It allows both partners to grow individually. This balance creates strength in the relationship. Togetherness thrives when individuality is respected.

22. Positive Attitude

A positive mindset reflects inner strength. Hindu teachings encourage focusing on solutions rather than problems. A partner with optimism uplifts the relationship. Positivity creates a peaceful environment. It helps overcome challenges. A hopeful outlook strengthens emotional resilience.

23. Empathy

Empathy (Daya) is central to human connection. A partner who understands your feelings builds deep trust. Hindu teachings emphasize compassion toward all beings. Empathy strengthens emotional intimacy. It creates a supportive environment. Understanding each other fosters harmony.

24. Integrity

Integrity reflects alignment between thoughts, words, and actions. In Hindu philosophy, such integrity is essential for righteous living (Dharma). A partner with integrity builds trust and respect. They act with honesty even in difficult situations. Integrity ensures moral strength in the relationship. It creates a solid ethical foundation.

25. Long-Term Vision

Hindu marriage is seen as a lifelong journey, even extending beyond one lifetime through the concept of karma. A partner with vision thinks about the future and shared goals. The vows of Sapta Padi emphasize building a life together. A shared vision creates direction and purpose. It aligns both partners on a meaningful path.

A life partner is not chosen merely for companionship but for walking together on the path of dharma, artha, kama, and moksha. The teachings of Rig Veda 10.85 and the sacred vows of Sapta Padi remind us that marriage is a partnership of growth, responsibility, and spiritual evolution.

These 25 traits are not about perfection—they are about intention. When two individuals strive to embody these values, the relationship transforms into a sacred journey—one that nurtures love, purpose, and inner fulfillment for a lifetime.

About the Author:

Raj Shah Software by profession, Indian culture enthusiast, ardent promoter of hinduism, and a cancer survivor, Raj Shah is a managing editor of Desh-Videsh Magazine and co-founder of Desh Videsh Media Group. Promoting the rich culture and heritage of India and Hinduism has been his motto ever since he arrived in the US in 1969.

He has been instrumental in starting and promoting several community organizations such as the Indian Religious and Cultural Center and International Hindu University. Raj has written two books on Hinduism titled Chronology of Hinduism and Understanding Hinduism. He has also written several children books focusing on Hindu culture and religion.

After a long time, Aruna and I decided to visit the Brahma Kumaris Meditation Center in Miami. This was not a routine visit—we made a special point to go there on my 80th birthday to seek blessings and spiritual strength from the Brahma Kumari sisters. On such a milestone day we felt a more profound need to pause, reflect, and reconnect with the Divine. There could be no better place than a space filled with peace, purity, and elevated spiritual vibrations.

What made the moment even more meaningful was when Sister Wady Ben gently reminded me of something I had almost forgotten—that on my last birthday, I had begun a one-week introductory course with the Brahma Kumaris. That reminder felt powerful. It was as if my spiritual journey had quietly come full circle. A year ago, I had taken a small but sincere step toward spiritual understanding. Now, on my 80th birthday, I was being reminded to keep going down that path with more awareness and dedication.
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The Brahma Kumari sisters greeted us with warmth, love, and real love. Receiving a special blessing and a thoughtful gift on this occasion deeply touched me. In that sacred atmosphere, I did not feel the weight of eighty years; instead, I felt light, peaceful, and deeply grateful. It felt as though the Divine was gently reminding me that life, when lived with spiritual awareness, only becomes richer and more meaningful with time.

During our visit, we had the privilege of listening to a Murli shared by Sister Wady Ben. The words were simple, yet profoundly transformative:
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“May you become free from care and worry and make anything difficult become easy by remaining aware of the Father’s hand and His company.”

The message is simple and easy to understand with a beautiful analogy. When a child holds the hand of an elder, there is an immediate sense of safety. The child does not worry about where the path leads or what obstacles may come. That trust removes fear. In the same way, in this alokik ( Divine, Beyond the physical world ) life, we must constantly remain aware that our hand is in the hand of the Divine—BapDada (Brahma Kumaris use the term BapDada to refer to the combined form of the incorporeal God (Shiv) and the founder of the movement, Brahma Baba (Lekhraj Kripalani).  When we truly comprehend that our life is in His hands, everything transforms. We stop carrying unnecessary burdens. We stop worrying about outcomes. We become light.
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This message resonated deeply with me, especially when I reflected on the teachings of the Bhagavad Gita, where Bhagavan Krishna guides Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Arjuna, overwhelmed by confusion and emotional conflict, feels unable to act. Krishna does not remove the battlefield; instead, He transforms Arjuna’s understanding.

Krishna’s timeless teaching, the Bhagavad Gita Chapter 18 Sloka 66,

सर्वधर्मान्परित्यज्य मामेकं शरणं व्रज |
अहं त्वां सर्वपापेभ्यो मोक्षयिष्यामि मा शुच: || 18.66 ||

sarva-dharmān parityajya mām ekaṁ śharaṇaṁ vraja
ahaṁ tvāṁ sarva-pāpebhyo mokṣhayiṣhyāmi mā śhuchaḥ

Abandon all varieties of dharmas and simply surrender unto Me alone. I shall liberate you from all sinful reactions; do not fear. 

This teaching echoes the same truth we heard in the Murli. Surrender is not weakness; it is the highest strength. It is the realization that we are never alone. When we give our burdens to the Divine, we are not fleeing life; we are letting it guide us.

Both teachings remind us of a profound truth: life becomes heavy when we try to control everything, and it becomes light when we trust the Divine. When we hold the “Father’s hand,” or follow Krishna’s guidance, even the most difficult situations begin to feel manageable.
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As Aruna and I left the meditation center that day, we carried more than just blessings—we carried a renewed awareness. The challenges of life had not disappeared, but they no longer felt overwhelming. There was a quiet confidence, a deep sense of being protected and guided.

On my 80th birthday, this became my greatest gift—not just the blessings and the thoughtful present, but the realization that my spiritual journey, which I had consciously begun a year ago, continues with grace. When we remain aware of the divine presence—whether we call Him BapDada or Krishna—we discover that we never walk alone, and what once seemed difficult becomes beautifully easy.

Moments That Forced the Trump administration to Recalculate India

Dear Readers,

As you open this issue of Desh-Videsh, you will encounter a powerful and timely cover story—“India Is Winning Under Trump 2.0—And Teaching the World” by Dr. Arvind Suresh. His analysis captures a profound global shift: in an era defined by tariffs, disruption, and transactional diplomacy under Donald Trump, India has not merely adapted—it has accelerated. But this transformation is not accidental. Narendra Modi’s clear strategic vision, executed with precision by External Affairs Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar, underpins this transformation. This editorial builds on that foundation to examine a critical question: what specific moments forced Washington to rethink India—not as a junior partner, but as a decisive global power?

In global politics, there are quiet shifts—and then there are defining signals. Over the past few years, India has delivered a sequence of such signals—each one reinforcing a new reality. Under Modi’s leadership, India articulated a bold doctrine: engage with all, depend on none. Under Jaishankar’s direction, that doctrine was translated into actionable diplomacy—measured, disciplined, and unapologetically aligned with national interest.

The result? A series of moments that made it impossible for the Trump administration to ignore, pressure, or sideline India.

The Oil Decision That Redefined Independence

The Ukraine conflict triggered Western sanctions on Russia, causing many countries to comply. India did not.

Instead, it increased imports of discounted Russian oil—protecting its economy and ensuring energy security for its citizens. This was not defiance for optics; it was strategy in action. Modi’s vision of strategic autonomy met Jaishankar’s calibrated diplomacy, ensuring that India maintained relationships without compromising interests.

President Trump viewed the bold actions taken by PM Modi’s administration as a pivotal moment. India was not a country that would follow—it was a country that would decide.

Modi–Putin Optics: A Clear Strategy

The informal and widely publicized interactions between Narendra Modi and Vladimir Putin sent a powerful global signal.

These moments were not accidental. They reflected a deliberate approach—maintaining engagement even under pressure. Modi’s leadership projected confidence; Jaishankar’s diplomacy ensured balance.

For the Trump administration, the takeaway was clear: India was not drifting—it was navigating, with intent.

BRICS: From Participation to Leadership

The evolution of BRICS into a more assertive global platform further demonstrated India’s rising influence.

India shaped the direction of the bloc—advocating for inclusivity, balance, and reform—rather than allowing others to dominate it. This transformation reflects Modi’s broader vision of India as a global agenda-setter, supported by Jaishankar’s ability to negotiate across competing interests.

For the Trump administration, the outcome signaled a shift: India was no longer just present in global forums—it was influencing them.

Europe Turns to India—And Washington Watches

When leaders like Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission, accelerated engagement with India, it reinforced India’s growing centrality in global economics.

The India–EU trade momentum did not emerge in isolation. It was the result of sustained diplomatic outreach and strategic positioning. Modi’s vision created opportunities, while Jaishankar’s execution transformed them into partnerships.

For the Trump administration, the development raised a strategic concern: India was no longer being courted—it was being competed for.

Multi-Alignment as a Strategic Doctrine

India’s participation in forums such as the Shanghai Cooperation Organization illustrates a defining feature of its foreign policy: multi-alignment.

This is not passive neutrality. It is active engagement across multiple power centers. Modi articulated this approach clearly—India will engage widely but commit selectively. Jaishankar ensured its disciplined implementation across global platforms.

Again for the Trump administration, this approach required a shift in mindset. India could not be placed within traditional alliance frameworks—it operates beyond them, as it seeks to establish its own unique partnerships and collaborations that reflect its strategic interests and global aspirations.

Supply Chains and Strategic Leverage

As global companies began shifting away from China, India positioned itself as a reliable alternative. This was not a coincidence—it was a preparation meeting opportunity.

Policies, partnerships, and infrastructure investments created an environment where global capital could move with confidence. Modi’s economic vision aligned with Jaishankar’s international outreach, turning disruption into advantage.

For the Trump administration, this created a new reality: India was no longer optional—it was essential.

Strategic Autonomy, Consistently Executed

Across crises and conflicts, India’s responses have reflected consistency and clarity. It engages when beneficial, abstains when necessary, and decides independently.

This is where leadership matters most. Vision without execution remains a theory. Execution without vision lacks direction. India’s strength lies in the combination—Modi’s strategic clarity and Jaishankar’s diplomatic precision.

For the Trump administration, this consistency has forced a recalibration. India is predictable in one way: it will always act in its interest.

A Pattern That Cannot Be Ignored

Taken together, these moments form a clear pattern:

India resisted pressure.
India shaped global platforms.
India expanded economic influence.
India engaged across rival blocs.
India attracted competing global powers.

This is not a country adjusting to global change. This is a country driving it.

And at the center of this transformation are two critical forces: vision and execution.

The Diaspora Dimension

If Modi’s vision and Jaishankar’s execution have elevated India globally, Indian-Americans must now rise to shape outcomes domestically.

Economic success has built credibility. Cultural strength has built identity. Now, political engagement must build influence.

Enter Politics—Don’t Just Observe It

Run for local offices and build a leadership pipeline toward higher positions. Encourage younger generations to pursue public service. Leaders like Nikki Haley and Vivek Ramaswamy prove success is possible—but scale is essential.

Vote Consistently, Not Occasionally

Increase voter registration, educate first-generation immigrants, and mobilize youth participation. Focus on primaries as well as general elections. Consistent voting creates visibility—and exposure drives political relevance.

Fund Political Campaigns—Strategically

Support candidates aligned with key issues and engage across party lines. Build community-level fundraising networks. Financial strength must translate into political access.

Build Advocacy Groups and Networks

Create and strengthen organizations that represent Indian-American interests. Develop think tanks and policy platforms. Organized communities shape policy outcomes.

Engage Both Parties—Avoid Political Isolation

Maintain relationships across Republicans and Democrats. Focus on issues over identity. Influence both sides—so access remains regardless of political shifts.

Shape the Narrative Through Representation

Increase presence in media, policy roles, and government positions. Encourage internships in Washington, D.C. Representation changes perception—and perception influences policy.

Invest in Political Education

Educate communities about civic engagement and the importance of local elections. Use platforms like Desh-Videsh to inform and mobilize. An informed community is an empowered community.

Build Long-Term Institutional Influence

Develop PACs, mentorship programs, and leadership pipelines. Focus on long-term systems, not short-term wins. Sustainable influence requires institutional strength.

The Final Word

What we are witnessing today is not accidental momentum. It is the result of clear leadership, disciplined execution, and strategic confidence.

For the Trump administration, the lesson is now undeniable:

India is not a country you pressure.
India is a country you partner with.

And for Indian-Americans, the message is equally powerful:

You are no longer just participants in the American story.
You are positioned to shape it.

Because when vision meets execution—as it has under Modi and Jaishankar—change is not gradual.

It is decisive.

Raj Shah,
Managing Editor,
Deshvidesh Media Group.

The extraordinary success of films like Dhurandhar 1 and Dhurandhar 2 has reignited an important debate within Indian cinema—not just about storytelling, but about hypocrisy in Bollywood’s review ecosystem and influencer culture.

Despite record-breaking global earnings—estimated at over $240 million for the franchise combined—these films have faced repeated accusations of being “propaganda.” Yet, when we examine Bollywood’s history, a deeper contradiction emerges.

For decades, films that portrayed narratives perceived as anti-Hindu or sympathetic to Pakistan were rarely subjected to the same level of scrutiny. They were often praised as “bold,” “progressive,” or “realistic.”

This raises a fundamental question:

Why are some narratives celebrated while others are questioned?

The Success of Dhurandhar vs the Reaction It Received

Both Dhurandhar 1 and Dhurandhar 2 achieved unprecedented commercial success. Packed theatres, strong overseas collections, and massive audience engagement demonstrated one clear fact:

Audiences connected deeply with these stories.

Yet, instead of celebrating this connection, sections of critics and influencers focused on labeling the films as “agenda-driven” or “propaganda.”

This reaction becomes even more puzzling when placed in historical context.

A Major Shift: The Rise of Nationalism and Patriotism in Bollywood

One of the most significant transformations in recent years is the shift in audience preference toward nationalism and patriotism.

For decades, Bollywood was dominated by romance, family drama, and escapist storytelling. Today, audiences are increasingly drawn to films that emphasize the following:

• National pride
• Cultural identity
• Historical legacy
• Real-life heroes

This shift reflects deeper societal changes.

Examples of Nationalism and Patriotism in Bollywood

Several films have successfully captured this sentiment:

Military and Defense-Based Films

• Uri: The Surgical Strike
• Shershaah
• Border

Historical Narratives

• Tanhaji: The Unsung Warrior
• Kesari

Biographical Stories

• Sam Bahadur
• MS Dhoni: The Untold Story

Social Patriotism

• Pad Man

These films demonstrate that patriotism is not limited to war—it can also be expressed through social progress, innovation, and service to the nation.

Why This Shift Matters

India today is more globally connected and culturally confident than ever before. The younger generation is more aware of national issues and more engaged in discussions around identity and pride.

The global Indian diaspora also plays a role, seeking stronger cultural connection through cinema.

As a result, audiences are naturally gravitating toward stories that reflect the following:
who they are, where they come from, and what they stand for.

The Trigger: When Patriotism Becomes Controversial

The controversy surrounding Bollywood’s evolving narrative gained momentum following an incident involving actor Arjun Rampal. While accepting an award for his role in Dhurandhar, he concluded his speech with the phrase “Bharat Mata ki Jai.”

Traditionally considered a simple expression of patriotism, this statement quickly became politicized.

Commentators argued that such expressions—and the films associated with them—signaled a growing ideological shift in Bollywood.

What was once a natural articulation of national pride was reframed as a political statement.

This reaction raises an important question: why has patriotism itself become a subject of suspicion?

The answer lies not in the phrase itself, but in the broader context of a changing cinematic landscape—one where narratives of nationalism, identity, and historical reflection are gaining prominence.

Bollywood’s Past: Selective Sensitivity

Bollywood has never been apolitical. It has always reflected the mood, ideology, and narratives of its time. However, the reaction to different kinds of narratives has not been consistent.

Films Perceived as Sympathetic to Pakistan

Several Bollywood films have portrayed Pakistan or Pakistani characters in a sympathetic or humanized manner—often emphasizing shared culture and emotional bonds.

Examples include:

• Veer-Zaara – A cross-border love story portraying Pakistan in a deeply emotional and positive light
• Raazi—While patriotic, it also humanized Pakistani characters and their perspectives
• Bajrangi Bhaijaan – Highlighted compassion across borders, showing Pakistan in a humane and empathetic way

These films were widely appreciated, celebrated internationally, and rarely labeled as propaganda.

In fact, they were praised for:

• Promoting peace
• Encouraging cross-cultural understanding
• Humanizing the “other side”

There was little outrage, no widespread labeling, and no ideological scrutiny.

Films Criticized as “Anti-Hindu” by Sections of Audience

There have also been films that faced criticism from certain sections of society for allegedly portraying Hindu traditions, beliefs, or institutions in a negative or satirical light.

Examples often cited in public discourse include:

• PK—Questioned organized religion, with many viewers feeling Hindu practices were disproportionately targeted
• Oh My God! – Challenged religious institutions and commercialization of faith
• Haider – Focused on Kashmir with a narrative some felt leaned heavily against Indian state forces

Despite controversies, these films were largely defended by critics and influencers as:

• “Thought-provoking”
• “Courageous”
• “Necessary conversations”

Again, the dominant narrative was one of appreciation—not dismissal.

The Silence of the Past

What makes the current outrage particularly striking is the relative silence that preceded it.

For decades, Bollywood produced films that leaned toward certain narratives—some of which romanticized Pakistan, minimized complex geopolitical realities, or overlooked aspects of Hindu experiences.

Yet during this period, there was little to no widespread criticism from the same voices that are now raising concerns.

There were no major debates about ideological imbalance, no accusations of propaganda, and no warnings about cultural distortion.

This contrast highlights a critical inconsistency: outrage appears to depend not on the presence of bias, but on the direction of that bias.

The Forgotten History of Real Control

Perhaps the most significant gap in today’s discourse is the lack of acknowledgment of Bollywood’s historical relationship with political power.

In earlier decades, political influence on artistic expression was far more direct—and often coercive. Artists faced censorship, imprisonment, and bans for dissenting views.

Ironically, those warning about alleged political influence today remain largely silent about a period when state control over the film industry was far more direct and coercive.

In 1949, lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri was imprisoned for writing a poem critical of Nehru. He refused to apologize and spent nearly two years in jail. This was not censorship through criticism—it was censorship through incarceration.

Actor Balraj Sahni faced surveillance and harassment for his political beliefs. Theater legend Utpal Dutt was jailed for staging a play that depicted the Royal Indian Navy mutiny—an event central to India’s freedom struggle.

During the Emergency (1975–77), the control became even more explicit. Singer Kishore Kumar had his songs banned from All India Radio because he refused to perform at a government event. This was not a subtle influence—it was outright punishment.

These are not isolated incidents. They represent a pattern where political power directly shaped artistic expression, often through fear and coercion.

Compared to that history, today’s environment—where criticism unfolds through debate rather than suppression—represents a far more open landscape.

The “Secular Consensus” and Its Limits

For decades, Bollywood operated within what many describe as a “secular consensus.”

While the term suggests inclusivity, in practice it often meant adherence to certain narrative boundaries.

Stories that highlighted Hindu experiences, historical grievances, or sensitive political issues were often softened, avoided, or framed cautiously.

Over time, this created an unwritten rulebook.

Today, that rulebook is being challenged.

The Collapse of Narrative Monopolies

The most significant change in Bollywood today is not the emergence of political cinema—it has always existed.

What has changed is the distribution of narrative control.

The industry is no longer dominated by a single ideological framework.

New filmmakers, new platforms, and new audiences are contributing to a more diverse storytelling ecosystem.

What some critics interpret as a takeover is, in reality, a diversification.

A New Era of Audience-Driven Cinema

The success of films rooted in nationalism, history, and identity reflects a broader cultural shift.

Audiences are increasingly drawn to stories that resonate with their lived experiences and evolving sense of identity.

This trend is not imposed—it is organic.

The power has shifted from gatekeepers to viewers.

Market Demand vs. Political Narrative

Cinema, at its core, is driven by audience response. Films succeed because they resonate—not because they are “ordered” into popularity. The success of films like The Kashmir Files reflects a growing appetite among audiences for stories rooted in history, identity, and national consciousness.

To attribute this shift solely to government influence is to deny agency to millions of viewers. It also ignores a basic principle of the entertainment industry: audiences evolve. Preferences change. Narratives shift.

The decline of certain stars or genres, including the long dominance of actors like Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan, and Aamir Khan, is not evidence of ideological bias—it is a natural progression influenced by age, changing tastes, and storytelling formats.

To frame audience choices as political statements is both reductive and misleading.

A. R. Rahman’s Comment and the Larger Debate

The recent comment by A. R. Rahman describing parts of the film industry as becoming “communal” adds another layer to this discussion.

While his remark sparked debate, it also highlights the growing perception that cinema is increasingly being viewed through the lens of identity and ideology.

However, the success of films like Dhurandhar suggests a different reality:

Audiences are not as divided as the discourse suggests.

They respond to emotion, storytelling, and relatability—not just ideology.

The Spy Movie Double Standard

By definition, all mainstream spy and action films show one perspective from the hero’s side. The audience experiences events through them.

And yes, Pakistan’s spy films cast India as the villain. One of their biggest blockbusters, Waar (2013), revolves around Indian agents planning a terror attack in Pakistan. They go as far as depicting extremist Taliban outfits being secretly funded by India. To their audience, that’s a gripping thriller.

In the West, James Bond has spent more than sixty years saving the world for the British Crown, mostly through impossible stunts and a fair bit of old-school sexism. Mission Impossible’s Ethan Hunt regularly presents the CIA as the thin line between civilisation and chaos. Do we label Top Gun: Maverick as U.S.it. military propaganda in popular discourse? No, the reviews mostly admire the cinematography and enjoy the adrenaline rush in these films. So why deny Dhurandhar the same courtesy?

The Double Standard Becomes Clear

Now compare this with the reaction to films like Dhurandhar 1 and Dhurandhar 2.

• When a film promotes cross-border empathy → it is praised
• When a film questions religious structures → it is called bold
• But when a film emphasizes national security or strong patriotism → it is labeled propaganda

This is where the perception of hypocrisy arises.

The issue is not that criticism exists—criticism is essential for any art form.

The issue is that: Criticism is not applied equally.

The Role of Influencers in Amplifying Bias

In today’s digital era, influencers play a major role in shaping public opinion.

However, instead of offering balanced perspectives, many influencers:

• Echo dominant narratives
• Avoid controversial positions
• Align with trends to maximize engagement

When films like Dhurandhar 2 release, influencer reactions often become polarized:

• Extreme praise from one side
• Immediate dismissal from another

Very few attempt nuanced analysis.

This creates an environment where: Narratives are amplified, not examined.

The “Propaganda” Label: A Selective Tool

The term “propaganda” has become central to this debate.

But its usage raises important questions:

• Why are some films labeled propaganda while others are not?
• Who decides what qualifies as propaganda?
• Is it based on content—or on agreement with the content?

Every film, by its nature, reflects a perspective.

• A love story reflects a belief in romance
• A social drama reflects a viewpoint on society
• A political film reflects an ideological stance

If that is the case, then labeling only certain films as propaganda reveals more about the reviewer than the film.

The “Propaganda” Label: A Selective Tool

The term “propaganda” has become central to this debate.

But its usage raises important questions:

• Why are some films labeled propaganda while others are not?
• Who decides what qualifies as propaganda?
• Is it based on content—or on agreement with the content?

If that is the case, then labeling only certain films as propaganda reveals more about the reviewer than the film.

Audience vs Critics: A Growing Divide

One of the most significant developments in recent years is the growing gap between critics and audiences.

Despite criticism:

• Dhurandhar 1 became a massive global success
• Dhurandhar 2 broke records within days

This indicates that audiences are:

• Thinking independently
• Trusting their own judgment
• No longer relying solely on critics or influencers

In many cases, controversy has even helped films, drawing more viewers curious to form their own opinions.

Industry Silence: The Quiet Hypocrisy

Another dimension of this issue is the selective silence within Bollywood itself.

When certain films are released:

• Celebrities openly praise them
• Social media is filled with endorsements

But when films like Dhurandhar face controversy:

• Many remain silent
• Few take clear positions

This selective engagement reflects:

• Fear of backlash
• Industry dynamics
• The risk of being associated with “controversial” narratives

But silence, too, is a form of response.

The Real Issue Is Not the Film—It Is the Reaction

The debate around Dhurandhar 1 and Dhurandhar 2 is not just about cinema. It is about fairness.

When some narratives are celebrated and others are dismissed,
when some films are defended and others are labeled,
when criticism is selective rather than consistent—

Hypocrisy becomes inevitable.

The audience, however, has delivered its verdict.

With over $240 million in global box office success, the Dhurandhar franchise has proven that: Stories that resonate will find their audience—regardless of labels.

And perhaps that is the most important lesson for Bollywood today:

Cinema does not belong to critics, influencers, or ideologies.
It belongs to the people.

And the people are watching—carefully.

The Way Forward: Consistency and Credibility

If Bollywood is to maintain credibility, it must address this inconsistency.

Critics and influencers must:

• Apply the same standards to afilms.lms
• Separate personal bias from professional evaluation
• Encourage diverse storytelling rather than discouraging it

Because cinema thrives on diversity—not uniformity.

About the Author:

Raj Shah Software by profession, Indian culture enthusiast, ardent promoter of hinduism, and a cancer survivor, Raj Shah is a managing editor of Desh-Videsh Magazine and co-founder of Desh Videsh Media Group. Promoting the rich culture and heritage of India and Hinduism has been his motto ever since he arrived in the US in 1969.

He has been instrumental in starting and promoting several community organizations such as the Indian Religious and Cultural Center and International Hindu University. Raj has written two books on Hinduism titled Chronology of Hinduism and Understanding Hinduism. He has also written several children books focusing on Hindu culture and religion.

In the 33-year journey of Desh-Videsh Magazine, this is the very first time I am writing an editorial column—and that too, to share my deeply personal feelings about my husband, my life partner. I hope our readers will understand and appreciate the emotion behind these words, because this moment marks one of the most significant and meaningful milestones in both Rajni’s life and mine.

On March 20, 2026, we had the immense joy and privilege of celebrating Rajni’s 80th birthday—an evening that will remain etched in our hearts forever. This was not just a celebration of age, but a celebration of a life filled with purpose, resilience, faith, and service. As I stood surrounded by our family members and dear friends, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. Rajni and I are truly thankful to each one of you who joined us—your presence made the evening warm, meaningful, and unforgettable.

Over the years, I have witnessed Rajni’s journey closely—from his early beginnings in India to building a life of integrity and accomplishment in America. His path has never been easy, but it has always been guided by values, determination, and an unwavering belief in doing what is right. Beyond all achievements, what defines Rajni most is his love for family, his humility, and his commitment to giving back to society.

One of the most moving moments of the evening was Rajni’s heartfelt speech, “Eighty Years — A Sacred Journey.” As he spoke, the room fell into a profound silence. His words carried emotion, reflection, and spiritual depth. It was not merely a recounting of his life, but a powerful reminder that life’s true meaning lies in gratitude, resilience, and service. His message touched everyone present and left a lasting impression on all of us.

As his life partner, I have had the honor of walking beside him through every phase of this journey—through challenges, growth, andcountless blessings. This celebration was not only about looking back at eighty years, but also about appreciating the love, relationships, and purpose that continue to guide us forward.

I have also taken the liberty of sharing Rajni’s entire speech in its original poetic form in the following pages. It is my humble way of preserving not just his words, but the emotion, depth, and spiritual essence that touched all of us that evening.

With heartfelt gratitude,
Aruna Shah
Publisher, Desh-Videsh Magazine

“Eighty Years — A Sacred Journey”

Tonight, I do not stand before you
As a man who simply turned eighty.
I stand here as a pilgrim —
Grateful for every step of the journey.

I was born in the soil of my Matrubhumi, Bharat
Where faith rose before the sun,
Where my mother’s whispered prayers
Were the first victories I won.

I carried no riches across the ocean —
Only values stitched into my soul:
Bhakti in my breath,
Dharma as my goal.

Then America became my Karmabhumi —
Not just a land of opportunity,
But a battlefield of growth.

The early years were not easy.
New language. New culture. New skies.
No safety net beneath my feet —
Only determination in my eyes.

I worked hard.
I worked quietly.
I worked with giants — Fortune 500 towers of steel and glass.
I learned. I built. I earned trust.
I let integrity become my compass.

But something inside me whispered —
“Build your own path.”

So I stepped into risk.
One business rose.
Then another.
Then three stood tall.

Yes, one fell.
And yes, it hurt.

But life taught me early —
Failure is not defeat.
It is training.
It is fire shaping steel.

And through every ambition,
Through every uncertain leap,
One presence stood unwavering — Aruna.

Not just my wife,
But my anchor.
My courage in quiet form.
When storms gathered without warning,
She was my calm in the storm.

If I built anything in this life,
It is because we built it together.

Then came the true wealth of my life —
My sons.

Two bright lights
Who turned a house into a home.
In their laughter I heard music.
In their growth, I saw purpose.

And as life unfolded,
Blessings multiplied —

Two daughters-in-law
Who did not just join our family —
They strengthened it.
They brought grace.
They brought warmth.
They brought love that expanded our world.

And then —

Four grandchildren.

Four living miracles.
Four reasons to fight harder.
Four reminders that life is not behind me —
It continues forward.

Then came the battle I did not choose —
Cancer.

It knocked without warning.
It tested my body.
It tested my spirit.

But I was not alone.

My family became my armor.
My friends became my shield.
Even strangers sent prayers
That I could feel.

In hospital rooms and silent nights,
When machines hummed and fear whispered,
I remembered the Gita —”The Bhagavad Gita”

The soul cannot be broken.
The Self cannot be burned.

And when weakness said, “Rest,”
My grandchildren’s laughter said, “Stay.”
When doubt said, “It is too hard,”
Love answered, “Not today.”

I did not fight alone.
We fought together.

And by grace —
I stand here today.

Eighty years.

Not just years of work.
Not just years of success.
But years of learning
That life’s true measure is service.

Today, my joy is not in what I earned —
But in what I can give.

In feeding children through Akshaya Patra,
In serving community,
In seeing divinity in every child’s smile —
I found the deeper meaning of living.

Then, a quiet light entered my path —
Not through struggle, but through awakening.
When Sister Shivani came to South Florida,
Her words touched not just the mind, but the soul.

In her simplicity, I found depth,
In her silence, I found answers.
She showed me not to change the world, but myself —
And led me to the Brahma Kumaris, a path of peace and inner power.

Matrubhumi gave me roots.
Karmabhumi gave me wings.
“The Bhagavad Gita”  gave me steadiness
Through all life’s changing things.

I have stumbled.
I have risen.
I have lost.
I have won.

But the greatest victory of my life
Is standing here surrounded by love.

If I have learned anything in eighty years,
It is this:

Struggle is sacred.
Work is worship.
Family is fortune.
Service is freedom.

And gratitude —
Gratitude is everything.

So tonight, I do not celebrate age.
I celebrate grace.
I celebrate resilience.
I celebrate all of you —
Who made this journey beautiful.

At eighty, I am not at the end.
I am simply at a higher vantage point —
Able to see how every battle,
Every blessing,
Every tear,
Every triumph
Was part of a sacred design.

And if tomorrow comes —
As I pray it does —
I will greet it the same way I greeted the first day in this country:

With faith in my heart,
Courage in my step,
And service as my purpose.

Thank you
For walking this journey with me.

The Big Fat Indian Weddings

How to Tap into this Multi-Billion Dollar, Recession-Proof US Market

By Raj Shah

Indian weddings in America are not just events — they are multi-day, multi-venue, luxury productions powered by culture, family pride, and serious spending.

With highly educated, high-income households and a deep-rooted tradition of grand celebrations, Indian-American weddings have quietly become one of the most profitable and recession-resistant segments in the U.S. wedding industry. Yet most venues, planners, and vendors still don’t fully understand how to access—or serve—this powerful market.

In The Big Fat Indian Weddings, Raj Shah pulls back the curtain on the following:

• The real numbers behind Indian-American wealth and wedding spending
  • Why Indian weddings thrive in every economy
  • Cultural intelligence needed to earn trust and avoid costly mistakes
  • How events like Haldi, Mehendi, and Sangeet create multiple revenue streams
  • The psychology of big-spending families
  • Winning referrals through the influential “Aunty Network”
  • Positioning your brand for premium pricing without discounting
  • Strategic partnerships that multiply revenue

This book is not a cultural guide.
This is a business playbook.

If you are a venue owner, planner, photographer, caterer, decorator, hotel executive, or entrepreneur looking to grow in a high-value market, this book shows you exactly where the money is—and how to claim it.

The market is booming.
The opportunity is real.
The time to act is now.

For more information or to order your copy, visit the following:

www.deshvideshpublishing.com

From Engagement to Vidaai

A Complete Guide to Planning Your Indian Wedding in America

By Raj Shah

Planning an Indian wedding in the United States is not just about traditions — it’s about strategy.

From negotiating with parents to managing a six-figure budget…
From understanding venue contracts and fire codes to selecting vendors who truly understand your vision and Indian rituals…
From balancing Mehendi, Haldi, Sangeet, and Reception schedules within American time constraints…

Indian-American weddings are beautiful, but they are complex.

In From Engagement to Vidaai: The Complete Indian Wedding Planning Guide in the U.S., Raj Shah delivers a practical, culturally intelligent roadmap designed specifically for couples planning their big day in America.

This book walks you step-by-step through:

• Realistic budgeting in U.S. dollars
  • Managing expectations across generations
  • Choosing vendors who understand Indian ceremonies
  • Understanding marriage licenses and legal requirements
  • Avoiding costly mistakes
  • Protecting yourself with smart contracts
  • Blending tradition with modern American realities

Whether you are planning a grand ballroom wedding in New Jersey, a beach mandap in Florida, a California vineyard ceremony, or a destination celebration in Mexico, this guide ensures you celebrate with confidence — not chaos.

Before you sign a single contract, read this book.

Your wedding is sacred.
Your planning should be smart.

Meditation doesn’t have to be a mountain to climb; in fact, Raja Yoga is often called ‘Easy Raja Yoga’ for a reason. While finding that inner hush might seem daunting at first, getting started is simply a matter of knowing the way. By following this straightforward five-step process, you’ll soon find that reaching a state of calm doesn’t require a long journey—“eventually, a single, focused thought is all it takes to arrive at total stillness.”

Relaxation

Relaxation is about letting go of tension and stress and bringing the mind and body into a state of calm and peace …

Concentration

Concentration allows me to use my time productively, once I have relaxed: I focus on the thoughts I choose to have …

Contemplation

Contemplation is reflecting deeply on myself, my inner world and my values…

Realisation

Realisation is when my understanding and feelings combine and I experience a more profound, more meaningful reality within…

Meditation

Meditation is focusing on a thought and remembering my eternal identity, and re-awakening a wonderful state of well-being …

Where to Meditate

Life already feels full – filled with activities and responsibilities, so where can we put in the activity of meditation? That’s the beauty of Raja Yoga; you can fit it in anywhere.

At home

You don’t need a special room or allocated space, any quiet corner or comfortable chair will do. Make a regular appointment to meet up with your innermost self. In time, you’ll probably find a particular place that you’re drawn to, where the vibrations of your own stillness and reflective practice create a little place of peace. Visit whenever you like. Visit often.

In your workplace

Wherever you work, a little creative thought can suggest a place for meditation: quietly holding the phone to your ear for a moment or two while listening to the silence within, instead of a voice on the phone. Or walking down a corridor with a file can give you a few minutes of peacefulness away from your desk. Your colleagues won’t notice you meditating, but they may notice your new calmness.

While travelling

The time you spend going from one place to another, on foot, travelling by bus or train can be used to visit your internal space of stillness. The open-eyed method of Raja Yoga meditation makes this inner journey possible and practical.

Outside or inside

The whole world offers itself to you to select your own special place to connect with yourself and the One. On a sunlit beach or in a supermarket queue, a serene riverbank or a dentist’s waiting room, a bench in a city square or a patch of grass somewhere. Everywhere is a fine place to become still and silent. Pick your own place of peace.

Quiet among crowds

As you learn how to create a quiet room within yourself, you’ll find that you can slip into it at any time. When there are people around you, or when the world is noisy or challenging, step into the quietest place on the planet – the silent space of the soul.

Alone or in company

The most beautiful experiences of meditation can occur when you’re just on your own, only in the company of the One. There are also places and times when you might choose to meditate with others. All around the world there are Brahma Kumaris centres and quiet places of peacefulness where anyone can visit to share moments of calm. In some places these are called ‘Inner Space’.

There are particular times, too, when like-minded people choose to meditate in unison around the world, with the understanding that sharing positive thoughts at the same moment can increase the power and reach of their good wishes.

World Meditation Hour

The tradition of creating one hour of peace around the world began in 1978 and it takes place on every third Sunday of the month. The aim is to share good vibrations and donate love and peace for the world and all the people on our precious planet. If we remember that this world is, after all, our global home, then together we can shine a ray of hope that will shed a little light to help to heal our world.

Retreats – spaces of calm

Besides creating oases of calm and quiet throughout each day, we might sometimes choose to take time out of our normal routine to go on a spiritual retreat.

Going on any form of retreat can be the first step that we take to re-connect with our inner ‘self’. We may have the thought to get away from things externally, to make some physical changes outside, by taking time out. But what about the true re-treat, where we go deep within to the core of our being? When we work on ourselves, we can return to the space inside where we can re-connect with our own true ‘self’. This is the spiritual ‘self’, that which is at our core, that part of us that does not change. 

Taking time out through the process of meditation is a journey in itself. Meditation allows us to come back to a place of inner balance, where our thoughts, feelings, energy and time are used in a way that has value and is worthwhile. “Everything depends on our stage of awareness and an understanding of our true identity. At this point we start to open the door to more positive experiences in life.” We start to value things of a spiritual rather than a material nature. We begin to create a values-based, quality life, where we can afford to be generous and loving. Our thinking becomes clearer and our decision-making power increases.

The real re-treat helps us to re-turn – to get us into a space where we can re-connect to our truth, to understand, to experience and to answer the age old question, “Who am I?” It is only then that we are both at the beginning and the end! This is where this question ends and the experience begins. Enjoy the journey.

Time for Meditation

Most people say they would like to meditate. Most people say they don’t meditate. And why?

Because, they say, they don’t have time. So how and when do busy people, like you, make moments to meditate?

First thing in the morning

The moment you open your eyes and know you are awake is a great time to start meditating. Start by greeting yourself, the powerful positive soul you are. And then greet the One who never sleeps. 

 At mealtimes

Meditate meal timesBefore you eat, you can sit for a moment, meditating on the good fortune of having food to eat and with the understanding of how our thoughts affect our food, what we think, do and become. Filling our food with powerful thoughts of gratitude and grace means we feed ourselves too, with all good things. [Also of interested: The Mindful Kitchen].

 Throughout the day – Traffic Control

We are all drivers on the highway of life, and every now and then it is good to check the direction in which we are travelling. When we drive our car on the road we have to stop at every traffic light, so perhaps we can learn to take advantage of these traffic light moments during the day to practise some meditation. In the same way, by pausing our thoughts from time to time we can check and re-direct them, and create a method to make positive changes that will help to put our mind back into neutral.

Taking short peace breaks for the mind gives us a chance to re-focus our thinking, and helps to put the mind back into the right gear to create a positive flow of thoughts and feelings. By doing this, we will find that our day will run more smoothly and peacefully, because ‘traffic control’ moments allow us to maintain balanced thinking.

At night

Before you sleep is a good time for your final meditation of the day. Book yourself a little time, as part of your bedtime routine, to sit quietly with yourself and reflect on the day – considering what was well done and what could be done differently tomorrow. Deliberately close up the ‘files’ of the day’s activities and put them away in your mind, so you can bring the day to a close and allow yourself to slip into sleep, untroubled and at peace. 

Anytime

Whenever you arrive at a moment of anxiety or indecision, uncertain of the way forward, that could be a moment to go ‘within’ and await an answer.

In a moment of gratitude and pleasure, why not share it with the One.

When frustrated, lonely, tired or happy, uplifted, optimistic – all these are moments to find power to deal with negatives and times to enjoy and enrich the positive – anytime is time for a moment of meditation.

By Raj Shah

When our children look back, what will they remember—our success or our values? As Indian Americans, we have much to acknowledge with quiet pride. In just a few decades, a community that arrived with limited resources has built lives of stability and opportunity.

We have educated our children, entered respected professions, created thriving businesses, contributed to innovation, and earned recognition in a country far from where many of us began.

These achievements do matter. They reflect sacrifice, resilience, and perseverance. Yet success, by its nature, remains external. It is visible, measurable, and easily celebrated.

The deeper question, however, calls us inward. It asks not only what we have achieved, but what we are carrying forward—what values, traditions, and ways of life will endure when success alone is no longer the measure.

What Are We Really Passing On?

What, beyond material comfort and professional success, are we passing on to the next generation?

This question is not philosophical alone. It is deeply practical. “Wealth can be transferred. Education can be planned. Careers can be guided. But culture, values, and identity do not pass automatically.” They require presence, intention, and everyday living. They are transmitted not through speeches or institutions, but through homes—through shared meals, conversations, rituals, celebrations, and relationships.

The torch I speak of in this issue of Desh-Videsh magazine is not ideological. It is not about leadership positions or public recognition. It is far more intimate. It is the quiet inheritance of how families live, what they honor, and what they choose to preserve when no one is watching. It is the way elders are spoken to, the way guests are welcomed, the way gratitude is expressed, the way festivals are observed, and the way faith is practiced—or not practiced—within the walls of a home.

In January of Desh-Videsh I talked about “The Rise and Rise of Indian Americans.” The narrative of rise and recognition is important. It tells us how far we have come. In this issue of Desh-Videsh magazine, I want to talk about an equally important aspect of our rise: culture and heritage. A community can rise economically and still lose its cultural focus. Therefore, our focus should not be ONLY on our achievements but rather on the foundation of our success.

“In America, culture rarely disappears through rejection. It fades through neglect.”  It slips away in the rush of daily life, in the belief that there will be time later, and in the assumption that children will absorb identity simply by being born into it. Yet identity does not survive on intention alone. What is not lived is eventually forgotten.

“Passing the torch does not require grand gestures. It begins quietly, at home.” It begins with the decision to prioritize presence over pressure. In valuing connection over convenience. In recognizing that what we pass on today—intentionally or unintentionally—will shape how the next generation understands who they are long after the applause fades.

The Family serves as the First Cultural Classroom.

Culture is not first learned through books, weekend classes, or formal instruction. It is absorbed quietly, long before children have the language to describe it. The family home is the first and most influential cultural classroom, and parents are its most powerful teachers—not by what they explain, but by what they live.

In Hindu tradition, sanskar was never a lesson plan. It was not delivered through lectures or enforced through rules. It was transmitted through observation. Children learned by watching how elders spoke to one another, how guests were welcomed, how disagreements were handled, and how daily life unfolded. Values were not discussed abstractly; they were demonstrated repeatedly.

Respect for elders, for example, was not taught as a concept. It was practiced. Children observed how parents addressed grandparents, how decisions were discussed, and how patience and deference were shown. Over time, respect became instinctive rather than imposed. In many Indian American homes today, this transmission is challenged not by lack of intent, but by lack of exposure. When extended family is distant or daily interactions are rushed, children have fewer opportunities to witness these relationships in action.

Shared meals once served as natural gathering points for family life. They were moments when stories were exchanged, values were reinforced, and bonds were strengthened without effort. Today, meals are often fragmented—eaten at different times, in different spaces, or in front of screens. What is lost is not merely conversation, but continuity. A child who rarely experiences family meals loses one of the most powerful settings for cultural learning.

Daily routines, though seemingly mundane, shape identity more deeply than occasional events. Morning greetings, bedtime rituals, simple prayers, household responsibilities—these repeated actions communicate what a family values. They create rhythm and familiarity. Children do not need constant explanations to understand that something matters; they sense it through repetition.

One of the most overlooked truths of cultural transmission is that children learn identity long before they consciously understand it. They absorb tone, behavior, and priorities emotionally before they can articulate meaning intellectually. By the time questions arise—about faith, culture, or belonging—the foundation has often already been laid.

This is why consistency matters more than intensity. Culture that passes sporadically or only on special occasions struggles to take root. Culture lives gently but regularly becomes part of a child’s inner world. Even imperfect consistency—shared meals a few times a week, simple rituals observed occasionally, respectful interactions modeled daily—has a lasting impact.

The family as a cultural classroom does not require perfection, structure, or expertise. It requires presence. When children grow up seeing culture lived naturally at home, they carry it forward not as an obligation, but as a part of who they are.

Food as Memory, Culture, and Belonging

Long after specific lessons fade, taste remains. Food has a unique ability to anchor memory, emotion, and identity in ways that words often cannot. For many children, especially those growing up between cultures, food becomes the most enduring and instinctive connection to their heritage.

In Indian families, the kitchen has traditionally been more than a functional space. It is a cultural center—a place where generations meet, where stories are exchanged, and where identity is passed on quietly. The sounds, aromas, and rhythms of cooking form a backdrop to family life. Children absorb culture here without instruction, simply by being present.

Festival foods carry layers of meaning that rarely need explanation. A particular sweet prepared for Diwali, a savory dish made during Navratri, or a special offering during Janmashtami becomes part of a child’s internal calendar. These foods mark time. They signal celebration, reflection, and togetherness. Even when children do not fully understand the religious or historical significance, they remember the feeling associated with those moments.

Regional dishes deepen this connection further. They root children not only in a broad Indian identity but also in a specific place, language, and lineage. A Gujarati thali, a South Indian breakfast, a Punjabi winter dish, or a Bengali sweet carries with it the geography and history of a family’s origin. Family recipes, passed down through generations, act as edible archives—holding memories of grandparents, childhood homes, and shared experiences.

Children often remember taste longer than teachings because food engages the senses fully. It is experiential rather than abstract. While explanations can be forgotten or resisted, the sensory memory of a dish—its aroma, texture, and flavor—stays embedded. Years later, a familiar taste can evoke belonging more powerfully than words ever could.

In the American context, food sometimes becomes the last remaining cultural thread when other practices weaken. Language may fade. Rituals may become occasional. But the desire for familiar flavors often persists into adulthood. Such a desire is not nostalgia alone; it is emotional continuity. Food provides comfort, familiarity, and grounding in moments of stress or transition.

When families cook together, even occasionally, food becomes a shared language. Children who help prepare meals feel ownership rather than obligation. They learn culture through participation, not pressure. Allowing children to adapt recipes or blend traditions reflects the natural evolution of culture rather than its loss.

Food, at its best, is not a backward-looking reminder of what once was. It is a living expression of belonging. In passing down recipes and food rituals, families are not clinging to the past—they are nourishing continuity, one meal at a time.

Festivals: Joy Before Instruction

For children, festivals are not first understood—they are felt. Long before they can explain why a diya is lit or why colors are thrown, they absorb the excitement, warmth, and togetherness that surround these moments. This emotional experience, not intellectual explanation, is what allows festivals to take root in a child’s memory.

Indian American homes often celebrate festivals like Diwali, Holi, Navratri, and Janmashtami across two worlds. They exist within the rhythms of American life—school schedules, work commitments, neighborhood norms—yet carry traditions shaped over centuries. The way we experience these festivals at home shapes whether they become enduring memories or fleeting events.

Diwali celebrated quietly at home—lighting lamps together, preparing a special meal, sharing stories—often leaves a deeper impression than elaborate gatherings alone. Holi becomes meaningful when it is playful and spontaneous rather than staged for photographs. When kids hear stories informally before bed or witness adults joyfully participate, Janmashtami comes to life. Navratri gains significance when children observe devotion expressed naturally, not formally enforced.

Festivals lose power when they become performances. When children feel evaluated on whether they “know enough” or “do it correctly,” participation turns into pressure. Culture then feels like a test rather than an invitation. In contrast, festivals that emphasize joy, participation, and family connection create emotional attachment. Meaning follows naturally when curiosity is allowed to develop.

In the American context, temples and community centers play an important role in preserving tradition. Large celebrations offer scale, visibility, and collective energy. They help children see that their culture is shared by many. But temple celebrations alone cannot carry the full weight of cultural transmission. Without reinforcement at home, festivals risk becoming external events rather than internal experiences.

The home offers something temples cannot: intimacy. It is where children observe how culture fits into daily life. A small prayer before lighting a diya, a story told at the dinner table, a family conversation about why a festival matters—these moments personalize tradition. They allow children to see culture not as something performed occasionally, but as something lived.

Creating meaning without pressure requires restraint. It means resisting the urge to explain everything immediately. “Children do not need full understanding to belong.” Familiarity comes first. Questions arise later, when children feel safe and curious rather than obligated.

Festivals endure when they are associated with warmth, laughter, and connection. When joy comes first, meaning follows naturally. Passing festivals on in this way ensures they remain sources of comfort and belonging—long after the decorations are put away.

Everyday Hinduism: Faith Lived Gently

For many Hindu families in America, the challenge is not whether faith matters, but how it is expressed. Between the desire to preserve tradition and the fear of imposing belief, parents often struggle to find the right balance. Yet Hinduism, by its very nature, was never meant to be enforced. It thrives when it is lived gently and experienced naturally.

Simple practices often carry the deepest impact. A brief prayer in the morning, lighting a lamp in the evening, placing flowers before an image, or telling a story from the epics at bedtime creates familiarity without pressure. These moments do not demand belief or understanding. They offer presence. Over time, familiarity becomes comfort, and comfort becomes connection.

Hinduism has always provided rhythm to daily life. Its rituals mark beginnings and endings, transitions and pauses. In a fast-paced American environment, this rhythm offers grounding. For children navigating academic pressure, social expectations, and constant stimulation, small moments of stillness—folded hands, quiet reflection, familiar chants—can become sources of calm rather than obligation.

Allowing children to experience faith before explaining it is essential. Intellectual understanding is not the entry point for spiritual connection. Children absorb tone and emotion long before they grasp meaning. When faith is introduced through experience—through sound, gesture, and routine—it feels safe and familiar. Questions emerge naturally when children feel secure, not when they feel tested.

Forced religiosity, however well-intentioned, often produces the opposite effect. When children are required to perform rituals without emotional context or personal agency, faith becomes associated with pressure. The result can lead to resistance, avoidance, or rejection later in life. Many adults who drift away from religion do so not because they were exposed to it, but because they were overexposed without choice.

Some parents respond by removing faith entirely from home life, believing neutrality will allow children to choose later. Yet absence leaves a void. Children raised without exposure often grow curious but disconnected, unsure how to relate to traditions they never experienced.

Hinduism offers a wide, inclusive framework—one that accommodates inquiry, adaptation, and personal interpretation. When children see faith practiced sincerely but without rigidity, they learn that spirituality is not about perfection but about presence.

Faith that is lived gently does not demand adherence. It offers invitation. It creates an emotional anchor that children can return to at different stages of life. By passing on Hinduism in this way, families do not enforce belief; instead, they preserve a sense of belonging.

When the Roots Begin to Fade

Cultural loss rarely announces itself. It does not usually arrive through rebellion or rejection. More often, it unfolds quietly—through distance, distraction, and gradual disengagement. In many Indian American families, this drift goes unnoticed until much later, when parents realize that something once assumed has slowly slipped away.

Cultural drift is not about children refusing their heritage. It is about growing up without enough exposure to form emotional attachment. Many Indian and Hindu children raised in the United States do not actively reject their culture; they simply never fully inhabit it.

Some grow up without language. Without hearing their parents’ mother tongue spoken regularly at home, they lose access to humor, emotion, and family history embedded in words. Conversations with grandparents become limited. Stories are shortened. Over time, the emotional depth carried by language fades.

Others grow up without ritual familiarity. They may attend temple occasionally or participate in festivals sporadically but lack comfort with everyday practices. Rituals feel foreign rather than familiar. Without repetition, even simple acts—lighting a lamp, offering a prayer, participating in a ceremony—can feel awkward or intimidating.

Perhaps most critically, many grow up without emotional attachment to their cultural traditions. Culture becomes something external—observed but not owned. Without memories tied to warmth, joy, or connection, traditions feel abstract. When culture lacks emotional grounding, it is easily set aside.

This is why many second-generation youth describe feeling “culturally blank.” They feel somewhat connected to their parents’ heritage. They may feel unsure how to explain their background, hesitant to participate in cultural spaces, or uncomfortable navigating expectations from either side.

Educators, counselors, and community leaders increasingly observe this pattern. Many estimate that a significant portion of Indian American youth lose meaningful connection to their cultural roots by early adulthood—not through rejection, but through gradual disengagement.

This reality is difficult to confront, especially for parents who worked hard to create stable, opportunity-rich lives for their children. Yet recognizing cultural drift is not an admission of failure. It is an opportunity for awareness.

Culture is not lost all at once. It fades when it is postponed, outsourced, or treated as optional background rather than lived experience. But what fades quietly can often be revived gently.

Reconnection does not require drastic measures. It begins with small, intentional acts—shared meals, familiar sounds, casual stories, simple rituals, and genuine presence. Culture returns when it is reintroduced as belonging, not obligation.

Understanding cultural drift with empathy allows families to respond without blame. The goal is not to reverse time but to create meaningful connections moving forward—before the roots disappear entirely.

Why Identity Is Lost—Without Anyone Noticing

Identity is rarely lost through a single decision. It erodes gradually, shaped by the rhythms and pressures of everyday life. In Indian American families, this process often unfolds quietly, not because parents do not care, but because life moves quickly and intentions are repeatedly postponed.

Busy lives often cause culture to fade into the background. Long work hours, academic demands, extracurricular activities, and the constant pull of screens leave little space for reflection or tradition. Convenience culture rewards efficiency over presence. Meals are shortened or separated. Conversations are rushed. Rituals are delayed for “another time.” Over time, what is delayed too often simply disappears.

Many families also outsource cultural transmission, believing that weekend schools, language classes, temples, or cultural organizations can carry the responsibility alone. These institutions play an important role, but they cannot replace daily exposure. Culture cannot survive on scheduled programming alone. Without reinforcement at home, what children learn in structured settings often remains theoretical—something they attend, not something they live.

Fear of “forcing” tradition further complicates this dynamic. Mindful of their own experiences or eager to respect their children’s autonomy, parents hesitate to introduce culture at all. They worry that expectations will create resistance or resentment. While this concern is understandable, absence carries its own consequences. Children raised without exposure often grow up curious but disconnected, lacking the familiarity needed to engage confidently with their heritage later.

Over-assimilation is another subtle factor. Many immigrant parents equate success with seamless integration. Difference is minimized in the hope that children will belong more easily. Cultural distinctiveness is treated as optional, even inconvenient. Children absorb this message clearly: fitting in matters more than standing rooted.

This belief often goes unquestioned because its effects are not immediate. Children may thrive academically and socially while cultural connection weakens quietly. Only later—often in adolescence or adulthood—does the absence become noticeable, when young adults struggle to articulate identity, explain traditions, or feel comfortable in cultural spaces.

None of these patterns arise from neglect or indifference. They are the byproducts of noble intentions, shaped by a demanding environment. Yet recognizing them requires honesty.

Identity does not disappear suddenly. It fades when presence is replaced by efficiency, when culture is delegated rather than lived, and when silence replaces shared experience. Awareness is the first step toward restoration.

Reclaiming identity does not require rejecting American life or overwhelming children with tradition. It requires small, consistent acts of presence—bringing culture back into daily routines where it belongs.

Passing the Torch Without Burning the Bridge

The desire to preserve culture often carries an undercurrent of anxiety. Parents worry that if traditions are not actively protected, they will be lost. Yet culture passed through fear rarely survives. What endures is what is associated with joy, comfort, and belonging.

Passing the torch does not mean tightening control or increasing expectations. It means creating an environment where culture feels welcoming rather than demanding. When children associate tradition with warmth and connection, they are far more likely to carry it forward voluntarily.

Invitation is far more powerful than enforcement. Children who feel compelled to perform rituals or conform to expectations often disengage emotionally, even if they comply outwardly. In contrast, when culture is offered as an invitation—to participate, to observe, to ask questions—it fosters genuine connection. Allowing children to step in at their own pace builds trust rather than resistance.

Letting children adapt traditions in ways that resonate with their lives is not cultural dilution; it is cultural continuity. Every generation reinterprets what it inherits. When children are allowed to personalize practices—celebrating festivals differently, blending languages, modifying rituals—they take ownership. Adaptation signals relevance, not loss.

Grandparents play a vital role in this process. They transmit culture without agenda, often through stories, memories, and lived examples. Their narratives connect children to family history and ancestral experience. Even when language barriers exist, emotional bonds communicate values that transcend words.

In families separated by distance, maintaining these relationships requires intention. Regular conversations, shared rituals across time zones, visits when possible, and storytelling preserve intergenerational continuity. Culture thrives when it is relational.

Family time, however brief, creates space for these exchanges. Storytelling during meals, casual conversations, and shared activities—all provide opportunities for cultural transmission without formal structure.

Passing the torch gently ensures it remains light enough to carry. When culture is offered with generosity rather than urgency, children receive it not as a burden, but as a gift.

Closing Reflection: What Endures

Culture does not survive through anxiety. It endures through love. When traditions are carried with fear—fear of loss, fear of change, fear of getting it wrong—they become heavy. Children sense this weight instinctively, and what feels heavy is often set down. What lasts is what feels welcoming, familiar, and alive.

The torch we speak of throughout this reflection does not need to be heavy to be meaningful. It does not require perfection, completeness, or constant vigilance. Culture survives not because every ritual is performed correctly, but because connection is sustained. A shared meal, a familiar prayer, a story told casually, a festival celebrated imperfectly—these moments accumulate quietly, forming a sense of belonging that does not announce itself but remains steady.

Even small acts matter more than we often realize. A child may not remember every explanation, but they remember how it felt to sit at the table together, to hear a grandparent’s voice, and to participate in a celebration that felt joyful rather than obligatory. These experiences leave emotional imprints that resurface later in life, often when least expected.

There is reason for quiet optimism. Culture is resilient when it is lived, not enforced. The next generation does not need to inherit tradition exactly as it was. They need to inherit the freedom to make it their own, grounded in familiarity and affection.

When we pass the torch gently—without urgency or fear—we allow it to illuminate rather than burden. And in doing so, we ensure that what truly endures is not just tradition, but belonging.

About the Author:

Raj Shah Software by profession, Indian culture enthusiast, ardent promoter of hinduism, and a cancer survivor, Raj Shah is a managing editor of Desh-Videsh Magazine and co-founder of Desh Videsh Media Group. Promoting the rich culture and heritage of India and Hinduism has been his motto ever since he arrived in the US in 1969.

He has been instrumental in starting and promoting several community organizations such as the Indian Religious and Cultural Center and International Hindu University. Raj has written two books on Hinduism titled Chronology of Hinduism and Understanding Hinduism. He has also written several children books focusing on Hindu culture and religion.

Religious Intolerance — And the Courage to Accept Other Faiths as Our Own

It is often said—almost as social wisdom—“Never discuss politics or religion with friends and family.” These two subjects ignite emotions. They test loyalties. They can fracture relationships that took years to build.

But what about discussions on religion in public spaces? What happens when deeply held beliefs are not whispered at dinner tables but declared boldly in open forums?

Two weeks ago, I had an experience that forced me to confront this question directly.

At a public community event in South Florida, several organizations had set up booths. Among them was a local church operated by members of the Indian community. Out of curiosity—and perhaps habit—I walked up to the booth and began a conversation about religion.

What began as a polite exchange soon turned intense.

One of the non-Indian church members made a statement that was both familiar and startling in its directness. I have heard it before. I have read it in books and online debates. But never had I encountered it so plainly, face-to-face, in a one-on-one conversation.

He said, “Christ is the only way to salvation.” He went further: “All other religions are fake imitations of Christianity.”

For a moment, I paused.

As someone who has spent decades promoting Hindu values, culture, and philosophy—through publishing, community events, and personal dialogue—I could not let such a statement pass without response.

I reminded him that Christianity has existed for a little over 2,000 years. Human civilization stretches back far beyond that. Was he suggesting that every soul who lived before the birth of Christ—across continents and civilizations—was denied salvation?

Were the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Native Americans, Chinese sages, Vedic rishis, and countless generations of seekers simply condemned by chronology? And what about the assertion that all other religions are “fake imitations”?

I pointed out that respected historians and scholars—many of them not Hindu—have documented that Hindu traditions date back more than 5,000 years. If age alone were the measure of authenticity, then one could argue, with equal audacity, that newer religions are imitations of older spiritual traditions.

But reflection demands honesty. Religious intolerance does not always shout. Sometimes it hides behind certainty. Sometimes it appears in the form of exclusivity—“Only my path is valid.” Yet intolerance does not belong to one religion alone. It is a human weakness.

A few days prior to that public exchange, someone shared another incident with me, leaving me equally unsettled. 

A Hindu family shared with me the story of their young daughter attending a Catholic school. On the day of Diwali, she went to school wearing a small bindi on her forehead. For her, it was not a political statement. It was not an act of defiance. It was an expression of joy—of culture, of tradition, of celebrating the Festival of Lights.

As soon as the school principal saw the bindi, he reportedly rubbed it off her forehead and told her not to wear “something like that” in school.

Pause for a moment and absorb that image.

A child.
A sacred festival.
A tiny dot of identity.
Erased.

One may argue that schools have dress codes. One may argue about uniformity. But we must ask a deeper question: Would the same action have been taken if a student wore a cross necklace? Would a Christmas symbol have been removed? Would an Ash Wednesday cross on the forehead have been wiped away?

The issue here is not about attacking Catholic institutions. It is about examining double standards. It is about asking whether religious freedom truly applies equally—or selectively.

For that young girl, what message was sent?

That her faith is unwelcome? That her identity must be hidden? That assimilation requires erasure?

America prides itself on religious liberty. The First Amendment protects freedom of belief and expression. Yet real freedom is not measured by laws alone. It is measured by daily experiences—especially those of children.

For immigrant communities, these moments carry emotional weight. Parents choose schools hoping for academic excellence and moral grounding. They do not expect their children’s cultural expressions to be dismissed.

Religious intolerance is not always dramatic. It does not always come with shouting or violence. Sometimes it comes quietly—in small acts that communicate exclusion.

The booth conversation and the bindi incident may seem unrelated, but they are connected by a common thread: the belief that one religious identity holds superiority over others.

In the first case, the superiority was theological: “Only my religion leads to salvation.” In the second case, it was institutional: “Your symbol does not belong here.” Both reflect a discomfort with pluralism.

And yet, pluralism is the reality of modern America—especially in places like South Florida. Temples, churches, mosques, and synagogues stand within miles of each other. Our children sit in the same classrooms. Our businesses serve diverse communities. We weave our neighborhoods together.

In such an environment, religious intolerance is not just morally troubling—it is socially unsustainable.

Hindu philosophy offers a powerful counterpoint.  The ancient declaration from the Rig Veda—

“Ekam sat vipra bahudha vadanti”  Meaning Truth is one; the wise call it by many names.

This is not merely poetic. It is civilizational wisdom. It does not demand uniformity. It allows diversity. True pluralism does not require abandoning conviction. It requires holding conviction without contempt.

There is a profound difference between saying, “This is my path, and I believe in it wholeheartedly,” and saying, “Your path is false, inferior, or invalid.” The first statement invites dialogue. The second closes the door.

The bindi incident also challenges us internally. As Hindus and Indian Americans, are we equally respectful of others’ symbols? Do we defend the rights of all communities—or only when our own is affected? Acceptance is not agreement. Respect is not surrender.

When I reflect on my exchange at that booth, I recognize that intellectual arguments alone do not resolve intolerance. History, chronology, and scriptural citations may win debates—but they rarely win hearts. What transforms hearts is exposure, empathy, and experience.

Perhaps that church member has never studied Hindu philosophy deeply. Perhaps that school principal has never understood what a bindi represents auspiciousness, spiritual focus, and cultural pride.

Ignorance is not always malicious. Sometimes it is simply an unexamined habit. But unexamined habits, when institutionalized, become discrimination.

If religion is meant to elevate humanity, then its measure cannot be exclusivity. It must be compassion.

Jesus preached love. Krishna taught duty grounded in dharma. Buddha emphasized compassion. Prophet Muhammad spoke of mercy.

Yet followers across traditions sometimes use sacred teachings to draw boundaries rather than build bridges.

As community leaders, publishers, and parents, we must model a different path. Our children are watching how we respond to intolerance. If they see anger alone, they will inherit resentment. If they see dignity combined with courage, they will inherit strength.

The young girl whose bindi was wiped away may grow up remembering that moment. The question is, will she remember it as humiliation—or as motivation to stand proudly in her identity?

Religious confidence does not require suppressing others. True spirituality is not insecure. It does not fear comparison. It does not demand erasure. It does not depend on declaring others wrong to feel right.

The Earth is older than any single religion. Humanity’s spiritual search predates all organized institutions. Across centuries and continents, people have looked at the same sky and asked the same eternal questions. 

Different languages.
Different rituals.
Different symbols.
One shared human longing.

Perhaps we should not avoid discussions about religion in public spaces. Instead, we should elevate them. Let them be conversations rooted in curiosity rather than conquest. Religious intolerance begins when humility disappears. Acceptance begins when humility returns.

And in a world increasingly divided by ideology, the courage to honor another’s faith—while remaining steadfast in our own—may be the highest expression of faith itself.

Let me close this editorial by reiterating the Universal Peace Prayer from Hindu Scripture.

Om Asato Maa Sad-Gamaya |

Tamaso Maa Jyotir-Gamaya |

Mrtyor-Maa Amrtam Gamaya |

Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||

Om, lead me from the  world of unreality to the reality of the eternal self,
Lead me. From the Darkness of Ignorance towards the Light of Spiritual Knowledge,

Lead me from the world of mortality  towards the world of immortality of self-realization,

Om, peace, peace, peace.

Raj Shah,
Managing Editor,
Deshvidesh Media Group.