Something has shifted—and it’s no longer subtle.
India’s travel boom is turning heads across the Asia-Pacific. Countries like Japan, South Korea, and Australia are actively reimagining how they welcome Indian travellers. Our passport has momentum. Our presence carries weight. Indians today are not “emerging”; we are arriving—in boardrooms, on global platforms, in conversations that once spoke about us rather than with us.
Popular culture reflects this shift too. Indian faces now stand comfortably beside global icons—not as tokens, not as exceptions, but as equals. It feels like a full circle moment. India no longer needs explanation. It is being experienced.
This change feels deeply personal to me.
Three decades ago, when I travelled abroad as a model and actor, I was often told, “You don’t look Indian.” In America, I was mistaken for Mexican or Spanish; in France, mulatto. There was admiration, yes—but also surprise. The global imagination then had a narrow frame for India: Mahatma Gandhi, poverty, underdevelopment. Anything outside that box felt unexpected.
I won’t deny that I felt privileged—to be welcomed, to be admired, to be liked in the West at a time when that wasn’t common for Indians. But even then, something kept me anchored. I was already meditating. Already inward-facing. Humility wasn’t something I learned later—it was present from the start. So the applause never became my identity. I received it with gratitude, but I never mistook it for wholeness.
That grounding became essential later in my life. It references my recognition by the World Human Rights Protection Commission and my ongoing engagement in social and human rights work.
After surviving an accident that brought me face to face with mortality, clarity arrived with uncompromising honesty: we are one. And when life is returned to you after all odds, it asks something of you in return. For me, that calling became service—working toward justice, dignity, health, and peace across caste, colour, nationality, and economic divides.
This journey also gave birth to my upcoming book. What began as an exploration of mental health slowly revealed a deeper misunderstanding—how narrowly we define success. We are taught to equate it with money, fame, and ambition. Yoga speaks of this as a phase of consciousness. I lived it fully. And the truth is simple: it didn’t give me happiness. In fact, it quietly took it away.
What helped me rebuild were practices—yoga, meditation, mindfulness—not as philosophy, but as lived experience. I don’t write as a guru speaking from above. I write as someone who broke, healed, and stood up again using the very tools she now shares.
And no, this doesn’t mean I’ve walked away from acting. Acting is still a language I speak. But today, I choose scripts the way I choose beliefs—with care. I’m drawn to roles rooted in dignity, equality, justice, and empowerment—stories that elevate rather than exploit the human experience.
Through our Foundation, we now work closely with schools and communities, focusing on mental wellbeing and prevention—calming young minds before distress turns into disease. This is community work. It has never been personal charity. It belongs to all of us.
As 2026 begins, the invitation is simple: participate, collaborate, and care. India has found its voice. Now let’s use it—with clarity, compassion, and conscious intent.
Here’s to a strong, awakened year ahead.