For amader meye, meaning our daughter in Bangla, Maleeha Mahbub, echoed the very same question where do we truly belong for years. She knew how to play the part. Knew how to be useful. Knew how to be good. But somewhere between her grandmother’s stories and her own search for purpose, there was always a sense of floating. Too American in Bangladesh. Too Bangladeshi in America. Never quite claimed by either.

 

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Originally an independent intiative that would later merge with the nonprofit, Human Concern International, Maleeha returned to the heart of Bangladesh to implement a women’s health initiative in Susua — a village few outsiders visit but one that felt deeply familiar to her. It’s where her great-grandmother had once lived and died. The program focused on menstruation education and access to basic hygiene products—topics too often overlooked or shrouded in shame.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to show up empty-handed—that’s truly how this all began. Growing up Bangladeshi, it’s written in my bones that you never show up anywhere without something to offer,” Maleeha shared. “So when I started thinking about returning to my homeland, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to bring something meaningful with me. This project became that offering… My original plan was to bring mishti. Unfortunately, I lack the required bartering skills.”

She arrived not as a savior, not as an expert, but as a woman carrying generations of stories in her body. The nose she inherited from her mother, the voice that echoed her grandmother, the hands that resembled her aunt’s—none of these features had ever been used in this way before. Not here. Not like this.

The transformation was subtle, but sure.

“There wasn’t one moment when everything clicked,” she said. “It was more of a process. But there was a moment that made me stop and reflect. It was after the program ended and the supplies were distributed. An older woman came to me, kissed my hand, and called me amader meye—our daughter.”

“The belonging I had spent so long searching for wasn’t something that would swoop down and find me. It was something I had been building through the work, through showing up,” she continued. “Belonging isn’t about claiming a place—it’s about letting yourself be shaped by it, about becoming responsible to it.”

What made the experience powerful wasn’t just where she was, but how she showed up.

“Service, at its best, asks for nothing more than your willingness to be present and to be real. When you meet it with humility and care, something shifts. You’re no longer just a visitor. You’ve planted something. You’ve been planted.”

Maleeha’s journey didn’t stop in Susua. She’s continued to partner with Human Concern International to help distribute Eid food packages in Rohingya refugee camps—another experience rooted in dignity, listening, and care.

“Service is not just giving. It is not charity. It is an invitation to become entangled with a place and its people in ways that leave you accountable. And through that quiet, steady commitment—you are transformed.”

For many diaspora women, the discomfort of duality—of being both and neither—feels like an identity crisis. Maleeha’s experience offered a reframing.

“You can’t change who you are. I will always speak Bangla with an accent—it is woven into how I learned it, how I grew up. I am a Bangladeshi woman from Indiana, of course I sound different. But that’s who I am, both and equally. You don’t need to apologize for being neither one nor the other. Let the rooms get used to the fact that you’re both—and that you always will be.”

She also spoke of legacy—the quiet weight of the women who came before her.

“I am a culmination of all of the women who have come before me. There’s no beauty in sacrifice, no glory in carrying burdens that were never meant to be ours. There’s beauty in joy, in freedom, in comfort—and that’s what I want to give. This project, though small, is my defiance. It’s just one step in a much larger fight against the idea that womanhood must be synonymous with suffering.”

And for anyone longing to feel more rooted, she offers this:

“The answer to feeling connected to my roots wasn’t just about tracing ancestry or visiting the land—it was about figuring out how to become of that land. It’s about asking: How do I show up for this place? How do I contribute to it in a way that makes me feel truly connected?”

She didn’t wait to feel like she belonged—she acted. And through action, she found connection. Her service was never about performance. It wasn’t for social media, or for resume lines. It was an offering. An attempt to return something to the people and the place that made her possible.

Now, that spirit is being carried forward, Brown Girl Mag’s Trisha Sakhuja-Walis is also raising funds to continue this work and expand its reach to other underserved communities across Bangladesh.

 

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Friends have followed suit, like Maesha Shonar from Eva Collective, she too is raising funds to help address this crisis in Bangladesh, her home country through Human Concern.

“We’re not just feeding families — we’re investing in sustainable solutions led by the very communities affected.”

 

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There’s something powerful about service when it’s done without ego. When it’s not about saving, but staying. When it’s not about being from a place, but of it. That’s what Maleeha found in Susua. Not a perfect fit. Not a full-circle ending. But something better: a beginning.

Maleeha gives us hope because stopped asking how to belong. Instead, she showed up. She listened. She returned. And slowly, the place responded—not with ceremony, but with recognition. A nod. A word. A hand outstretched.

We don’t always find belonging waiting for us. Sometimes, we build it with our own hands. And if we’re lucky, in the act of giving, we finally get to receive.

The post ‘Amader Meye’: How Service Rooted One Diaspora Woman in Her Homeland appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

“I don’t want just to play the stereotypical Indian — a doctor or a lawyer,” she said. “I want to play the bad guy sometimes.”

In a landscape where South Asian actors are still routinely offered roles with forced accents and caricatures, Patel is choosing a different path and inviting others along with her.

For Patel, the journey has been about more than screen time — it’s about reflection, legacy and visibility. She wants to not only honor those before her, but encourage those after her that they, too, can pursue their dreams.

“When I met Geraldine, I was like a little girl again. Watching someone achieve the kind of success I want, it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore. It feels like a reality.”

Seeing fellow South Asian actors succeed has helped redefine what’s possible — not just for her, but for the next generation watching.

“To anyone watching me, I want them to think, ‘Hey, if she’s doing it, maybe I can too,” Patel said.

[Read Related: In Conversation With Teresa Patel, Rising Actor From NBC’s ‘New Amsterdam’]

She shared that one of the most surreal moments for her career came when she returned to a shoot where she once worked as an assistant — only this time, she was the face of the campaign.

“It was the same location, same brand…but now, I was the model. It was one of those moments where I thought, this has come full circle.”

 

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Patel’s television debut came in the form of a bold, genre-breaking series, ‘Waack Girls’ on Amazon Prime. Set in Kolkata and helmed by acclaimed director Sooni Taraporevala, the nine-episode dance drama follows six girls forming a waacking crew, a high-energy dance style rooted in queer resistance and expressive movement.

For Patel, this wasn’t just another acting gig, it was an opportunity to tell a layered story of rebellion, sisterhood and self-expression.

“I play a strong-minded character who’s willing to stand up for herself and what she believes in,” she shared.

Working with Taraporevala also marked a turning point behind the camera.

“Her focus and attention to detail sparked something in me, this urge to explore directing.”

Through Waack Girls, Patel continued what she’s always done best: step into roles that reflect the messy, magical complexity of being brown, bold and unapologetically different.

Patel has even turned down roles that didn’t sit right, especially those that required stereotypical Indian accents or clichéd comedy bits.

“I’ve been asked to do the accent, the head shake… but I want to be authentic, as much as I can,” she said, adding that an accent to her isn’t natural.

While representation has changed dramatically since Patel began her journey, there’s still more progress to be made.

“I thought I’d have to play characters I didn’t connect with — the cliché roles people expect from Indian actors. But then I saw people like Geraldine and Poorna Jagannathan doing something different and I realized I could too.”

“We’re seeing more South Asians not just on screen, but behind the camera, in writing rooms, telling our own stories,” she said.

“There’s talent all over the place. The more we include each other, the more real our stories become. People just need to do more of that bring others in.”

[Read Related: Anita Verma-Lallian Talks Camelback Productions and the Need for Greater South Asian Representation]

Her acting resume spans far more than what the industry expects of South Asian women. From appearing in a project with an all-Black cast to dreaming of Marvel villainy, she’s made it her mission to defy the limitations of being ‘boxed in’.

“My dream role? A Marvel supervillain,” Patel said.

She added: “Something with mind manipulation,  I think all my modeling training and smizing would finally come in handy.”

 

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Though born into a family of artists, Patel’s decision to pursue acting full-time wasn’t without tension. Like any other career, it took hard work and commitment.

“I’m an only child, so there’s always that fear of — oh my god, she’s confidently walking away into something we don’t fully understand.”

“Finally seeing me on TV, I think my parents are starting to realize I’m on the right track.”

Leaving home at 15 to attend boarding school in Philadelphia, she pivoted from a state-level basketball player in India to a student chasing film dreams in the U.S. It was a bold move. One, she said, that still surprises people today.

“Just because I speak this way doesn’t mean I’m not Indian,” she reflected. “You can be multifaceted and a lot of people here still don’t understand that.”

 

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Patel isn’t just an actor. She’s a model, writer, aspiring director, basketball player AND someone who still volunteers weekly at a Los Angeles animal shelter, often unrecognizable in sweats and a baseball cap.

“People wouldn’t expect me to be doing weapons training, working with dogs, boxing — but that’s the point. You break the mold when you surprise people.”

That drive to explore everything is part of her creative ethos: the more skill sets you develop, the more doors you can open, or break through.

When asked what she’d tell her younger self, or any brown girl chasing a dream in a world that doesn’t always make space for us, Patel had a lot of wisdom to offer.

“There’s so much advice I’d give, but right now, I think it’s important to face the struggle. The ‘no’s. The doubt. Because if success comes too easily, you don’t appreciate it the same way.”

She recalled reading and watching Brown Girl Magazine growing up and now being featured in it, a full-circle moment she said she doesn’t take for granted.

“If you don’t have the right mindset, you won’t last in this industry. You’ve got to stay rooted in why you started: the storytelling, the art, the impact. That’s what keeps me going.”

She also urges young artists to rethink what’s possible and not to be afraid of facing ‘failure.’

“Embrace your unique experiences and use them to fuel your art. Don’t let rejection discourage you; let it push you harder. The more we step into our full selves, the more space we create for those coming next.”

With upcoming projects on the horizon and big dreams for the future, Diya Patel isn’t waiting for permission. She’s writing, producing, dreaming — and daring others to do the same.

“This is the industry of ‘no.’ But just one yes — just one ‘I believe in you’ — can go such a long way.”

For Diya Patel, authenticity isn’t just a personal value — it’s a quiet act of resistance. Whether she’s on set or volunteering at an animal shelter, she challenges the expectations that surround how women, especially South Asian women, should look or behave.

“You can still do all of this and look like this,” she recalls telling her neice who was shocked to see her barefaced, in sweats and covered in dog hair. “You don’t have to do what everyone else is doing to fit the mold. Break the mold.”

 

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Patel noted that volunteering at an animal shelter and hospital is not what people would expect the average Indian to do, but that’s what makes her work exciting — surprising people with the different roles Indian women can take on, both on and off screen.

“The more things you do, set you apart and will enable you to have a better chance at achieving your goals and breaking those glass ceilings and molds… rather than comparing yourself to somebody else.”

She spoke with reverence for moments that redefine cultural standards, including Pamela Anderson’s appearance at the Oscars without makeup.

“That was one of the most inspiring things I’ve seen,” she said. “If someone who’s been called a Hollywood sex symbol can take that stance, it gives others the courage to do the same.”

It’s these small rebellions, embracing natural beauty, saying no to industry norms, showing up as herself that mark Patel’s quiet revolution—not just for herself, but for the generations watching her rewrite the rules.

The post From Barefaced to Big Screen: Diya Patel Is Redefining Roles appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

 

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The Vision Behind Banyan & Birch

Smita’s journey began with a deep connection to her Indian roots and a desire to bridge the gap between tradition and modernity. Her vision was clear: to celebrate South Asian artistry while making it accessible to contemporary living spaces. Drawing inspiration from nature, her travels, and her heritage, Smita brought her dream to life with a collection of bold, minimalist designs that honor tradition while catering to mindful, modern consumers.

Central to this vision was the collaborative energy of Namratha Ajai, Banyan & Birch’s creative head, who played a pivotal role in shaping the brand’s identity. Namratha brought a unique perspective that blended creativity with strategic execution, ensuring that the designs not only reflected the brand’s ethos but also resonated deeply with its audience. Together, Smita and Namratha have built a brand that seamlessly weaves traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics, creating timeless pieces that tell a story.

“We wanted to create something that feels timeless yet bold, something that pays homage to the rich legacy of Indian craftsmanship while fitting seamlessly into the homes of today,” says Smita.

With this ethos at its core and Namratha’s creative direction shaping its journey, Banyan & Birch has become synonymous with mindful luxury and thoughtful design.

 

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Crafting Stories Through Artisanship

At the heart of Banyan & Birch lies a dedication to preserving age-old Indian techniques. Each product tells a story of heritage and artistry, crafted by expert Indian artisans using methods such as hand-block printing, hand screen printing, and hand weaving. These techniques, passed down through generations, breathe life into every piece, whether it’s a throw pillow cover adorned with intricate motifs or a table linen set designed to elevate everyday dining.

“Our artisans are the soul of what we do,” Smita shares. “Their expertise transforms our designs into pieces that are not just decor but heirlooms in the making.”

Sustainability as a Journey

For Banyan & Birch, sustainability is more than a buzzword—it’s a commitment. The brand uses 100% natural fabrics, ensures plastic-free packaging, and follows small-batch production practices to minimize waste. While they acknowledge that they are not yet fully sustainable, their ethos, “From the Earth, Back to the Earth,” guides their continuous efforts to improve.

“We’re on a journey to do better, one step at a time,” Smita explains. “It’s about making choices that align with our values while being honest about the challenges.”

A Celebration of Milestones

As Banyan & Birch marks its first year, the brand reflects on not just the products it has created, but the experiences and connections that have shaped its journey. From empowering artisans and preserving traditional craftsmanship to creating products that resonate with modern, mindful consumers, each milestone tells a story of growth and purpose.

The journey began humbly but gained momentum when Banyan & Birch joined the Retail Incubator under “UpNext”, earning a brick and mortar storefront for eight months. This space became more than a showcase – it was a canvas for meaningful conversations about heritage, craftsmanship and modern design.

As the brand continued to grow, unique opportunities deepened its connection to diverse audiences. Coming onboard as a brand partner for a live podcast event with BCG (Boston Consulting Group), where Banyan and Birch curated a personalized gift box for global music icon Jay Sean, blending artistry with thoughtfulness.

 

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Last year’s festive season brought yet another milestone when Banyan & Birch was invited to be a partner for the Diwali Gala in Boston, where its work took center stage in a room graced by Governor Maura Healey, Lt. Governor Kim Driscoll, and Secretary Yvonne Hao.
With a growing collection that now includes throw pillow covers, table linens, throws, placemats, and even limited-edition scented candles, Banyan & Birch continues to add timeless elegance to homes, bridging tradition and modernity with every piece.

What’s Next for Banyan & Birch?

Looking ahead, Smita and her team are excited to continue expanding their collection and deepening their commitment to sustainability.

“We’re not just creating products—we’re building connections between heritage and modern living,” says Smita.

For those seeking to add timeless elegance to their homes, Banyan & Birch offers more than just decor—it offers a way to embrace tradition in a bold, modern way.

 

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Discover Banyan & Birch’s collection today and be part of a journey that honors heritage, artistry, and mindful living.

The post From Tradition to Modernity: The Banyan & Birch Story appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

Apoorva and Sumathi, co-founders of RootEd Foundation, had sounded unyielding when they said it.

Stunned to silence, we exchanged side-eyes at each other on the Zoom call — if that’s even possible on an online group meeting. 

$30.00? For a solo Bharatanatyam performance? Targeted at audiences that had never seen Bharatanatyam before? Yeah…no one was gonna show up.  

The two of us jumped on a call right after the group meeting, and the vent opened:  

Shows featuring the greatest Bharatanatyam artists of our time only charge $30, so who will pay $30 to watch us?

We were more than willing to perform without pay — something we were used to and had accepted. Like most other South Asian artists of a cultural art form, we were raised to believe that showcasing our culture was a priceless opportunity in itself. Charging a fee to perform, let alone charging fair compensation, somehow conflicted with its spiritual roots. 

We had never paid more than $10 for a Bharatanatyam show in the suburbs where we grew up, most Indian classical programs were free.

Ironically, that was our mindset as an audience for our own art form. How were we supposed to convince others to pay?

Two months later, as ticket sales came trickling in, we were so relieved that we didn’t resort to our initial gut reaction of lowering ticket prices. We had the opposite problem…with one show selling out altogether! 

RootEd Foundation’s One Step Closer Koncerts greeted an audience of 215 people across 6 cities and 7 concerts. Of this audience,  1 in 3 had never seen Bharatanatyam before and nearly 100% said they would watch a Bharatanatyam performance again. 

What’s keeping audiences away?

While most of us in the Indian diaspora may have attended a friend’s Arangetram, scrolled past a #dancechallenge reel on Instagram, or attended a collegiate dance team performance, it’s no secret that Bharatanatyam remains out of the mainstream. 

Bharatanatyam in its traditional format often feels like it can only be watched through a glass window. 

When a new viewer attends a Bharatanatyam concert, they might hear something like: “The central piece of today’s margam is the well-known Tanjore Quartet pada varnam where the Nayika is in Viraha.”

That, right there, is a sentence that is filled with incomprehensible technical terms and assumed knowledge. Audiences encounter songs in languages unfamiliar to the ear – Sanskrit, Braj, chaste classical Tamil. It’s like watching Taylor Swift sing in Latin.  The dance consists of complex rhythms and ornates gesturing, the code sheet to which one has not been handed. The culprit is often assumed to be a cultural barrier – I don’t get the point of Indian epics and mythology – what’s in it for me? 

We are met with layer after layer of knowledge barrier, which makes us feel we can observe but never understand. 

RootEd’s One Step Closer Koncert (OSCK) Series was created to address this exact problem:

To take Bharatanatyam, in its traditional grammatical format, one step closer to an uninitiated audience, by giving them the much needed code sheet and context to unlock the real deal – the dance itself!

 

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Becoming our own ambassadors

Targeting our outreach to audiences that had never seen the art form, let alone knew how to pronounce “buh-ruh-tuh-naa-tee-uhm”, took considerable effort. It took weeks of handing out flyers, advertising in coffee shops and yoga studios, posting on social media, and engaging strangers in conversations for us, as dancers, to become ambassadors for ourselves. 

Creating and articulating the demand for ourselves and the art form was a completely new muscle we were building, real-time.

The less apologetic we were about engaging people in something they didn’t know about initially, the more trusting they became of us to teach them. We had to communicate our conviction in the art form, not our doubt about whether they would understand. 

Sumathi, for instance, faced pushback from her pre-teen dance students, whom she’d asked to spread the word about the upcoming OSCK performance. “I can’t invite my friends… they don’t know anything about dance and will not come.” 

After her Austin performance, the faces of the same kids who had begrudgingly dragged along unsuspecting schoolmates and neighbours were now brimming with confidence. Their friends not only stayed an entire hour from start to finish but were enthralled at the dancer’s ability to weave characters and narratives from thin air. 

One of them said, “You will leave the theatre thrilled, and excited to get back to another one.”

 

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Crafting an Accessible Dance Experience

Our mandate as artists is to give our audience a visual experience. But now, as ambassadors for the art, we also have an additional responsibility to help the audience relish the details—to guide their minds to elements that will help them connect. 

Our question switched from “Will they understand?”  to “What can we tell them so they can see the larger picture without getting embroiled in the particulars of the recipe?”.  

Instead of the typical:

We next present a Mallari in Ragam Gambheera Nattai, an invocatory piece about Lord Shiva from the temple traditions. 

Would our audience appreciate instead hearing:

This is a piece about a processional march – do you hear the beat of the procession slowly building to a crescendo?

As the performer, I found this process of painstakingly curating our annotations exhausting. Yet, our audiences were walking away with a deeper understanding of the art form. They had passionate discussions about how the performance made them feel and advocated for concepts, artistic choices, and every “Aha!” moment they had! 

In one post-performance discussion, an uninitiated audience member turned into a self-appointed ambassador and led a heated debate with a group of friends without the dancer even around. 

Audience 1: Why was the same line being performed repeatedly? 

Audience 2: I think it was because it grew in intensity each time and added another shade to her emotion. Maybe it was to qualify her urgency? I felt the urgency. 

Audience 1: Why does the protagonist keep asking her FRIEND to go get her lover? Why doesn’t she go and get him herself?

Audience 2 : Dude, the Sakhi is kinda like the best friend in a romcom. She serves both the heroine and the story’s narrative. 

This was beyond anything we expected. The impact we created extended well beyond an audience’s applause or a job well done – 

Our art had taken on a life of its own

Apoorva and Sumathi constantly reminded us that the stories of Bharatanatyam are not irrelevant or disengaging. It’s rather the spaces and methods in which we present Bharatanatyam that are not ideal—it does not initiate an untrained eye, teach audiences of the syntax of the art form, or inform one of the dancer’s intent. 

Our audience doesn’t want to be left behind. We, as artists, often do this without realizing it. When we relieve our audience of the pressure of understanding, we free them to experience potent moments that the art is capable of delivering, unaffected by presumed cultural barriers.

A Round of Applause

 

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The reviews said it all. 

“…even though you may not know the dance form or may not know exactly what she’s saying, you can connect to the human emotion being depicted. That is one of the most surprising aspects.”

Without understanding the language, the music, or the technique, watching Bharatanatyam became an experience of shared human emotion. 

“A feast for the senses.” 

The audience could interpret what they were seeing with the tools they already had. The content was simply the medium through which this impression could be laid. 

“I was blown away by how much story and emotion could be conveyed through dance.”

Despite being transported into stories and scenes from an unfamiliar cultural context, the audience felt that it was relatable in the ways that mattered for them to describe the experience and watch Bharatanatyam again. 

Ultimately, we had two primary goals — we wanted to achieve through OSCK: 

1. Bring in audiences who were previously uninitiated in experiencing a Bharatanatyam performance
2. Have them leave with a sense of wanting to come back and watch more.

How did we do? 

From sparking their curiosity to keeping them captivated throughout and ultimately leaving them excited for another experience, we couldn’t have asked for better results. 

Needless to say, they didn’t need an encyclopedia on Bharatanatyam to understand what they saw; they simply needed the space to experience it.

One Step Closer: To Ourselves, and You.

The journey of RootEd Foundation’s One Step Closer Koncerts has reminded us, as South Asian diaspora artists, of the power of believing in and advocating for the value of our art. 

To artists reading this, instead of questioning, “Am I worth $30?” let us focus on, “How can I better articulate my art to convince my audience that it is worth $30?” One is a disempowered mindset, while the other can unlock so much more than what we constrain ourselves to. The success of OSCK 2023 is testimony to the fact that adopting an empowered mindset truly works.

To audiences reading this, if OSCK 2023 has shown us anything, it is that Bharatanatyam can offer a valuable contemporary experience, even for those unfamiliar with it. Would you, going forward, consider giving something seemingly distant from you a fair chance before dismissing it altogether? 

Would you be willing to evaluate the price of something based on its promise to enrich you long-term? Would you be willing to place trust in the training, experience, investment, and wisdom of centuries that go into bringing a cultural art form to you and sign up to be an active partaker in discovering it? For a start, would you consider taking that first tiny, meaningful step closer to us? We assure you, you will not regret it.

RootEd Foundation’s next One Step Closer Koncert will be on November 9 across the USA. Buy tickets for a show near you.

The post Priced for Change: Opening Doors to Bharatanatyam Appreciation appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

“I come from a legacy of seamstresses, from women I don’t even know,” —Jasmin Nessa Ali

Jasmin Nessa Ali, a fashion designer from Queens, New York, describes her inspiration for creating NESSA, a womenswear fashion brand that sews elements of New York City streetwear and Guyanese pride. The art of sewing and creating in Guyanese culture isn’t a new phenomenon but one ancestrally rooted in survival and creative expression. Ali invokes this art by creating pieces that pay homage to Indo Caribbeans and their multifaceted identity, infusing streetwear pieces like cargo shorts and cropped hoodies with lehengas, gold and sarees.

 

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Her first collection, “Jumbee and Rum,” adheres to the spirits that haunt Guyanese women, a story between Ali and her maternal lineage. It serves as a reflection of the Jahajee, a term used by indentured workers, meaning shipmates, who were manipulated to voyage unknown lands, chained to sugar estates and riddled by the spirits of colonialism. Ali forges a new path for young Guyanese creatives to embark on cultural storytelling through distinct fabrics and silhouettes of their history.  

[Read Related: Introducing Indo Trinidadian Fashion House Shoma the Label]

Inspiration Behind NESSA 

As a child, cutting and sewing clothes became a hobby for Ali, as she would draw and design little dresses on her lap at lunchroom tables. During her senior thesis project, this hobby soon manifested into a full fashion brand.

“That’s when I realized, okay, NESSA could be really cool,” Ali said. “Women in my lineage, well, Guyanese women, know how to adorn themselves; we have such an inclination to be divas, to dress up and wear our gold. So when I realized that I might even come from a line of seamstresses that some of them, I don’t even know of, my grandma doesn’t even know of, I was like, Oh, this makes total sense; it’s like a legacy.”

Ali is currently based in Baltimore, Maryland, where she produces her handmade designs in her bedroom studio. She is a one-woman show with generational support from her mom, aunts, grandmothers, sister, partner and best friend. 

She begins her creative process through sketching or full illustrations, where she takes references from Guyanese fashion. Here, Ali invokes traditional silhouettes of sarees and lehengas while incorporating streetwear and avant-garde/modern silhouettes. “I also do my own fabric sourcing, some of my favorite fabric stores are on Jamaica Avenue in Queens. I’ll plan my trips back home to shop in Queens.”

Guyanese Culture and Urban Streetwear 

From aunties being dripped in gold with elaborate sarees to uncles with boxy loose button-ups, Guyanese fashion is a term that is evolving and shaping intergenerationally. Ali notes that her idea of Guyanese fashion might differ from the next Guyanese person, but the beauty of it is that it’s always ever-changing and not a solidified look.

“Guyanese fashion is forming and coming into fruition and there is so much room for other Indo Caribbean creatives and fashion designers to come to the table and make it something recognizable, where it feels right. When I think about Guyanese fashion, I think about Guyanese weddings, where they look extravagant, rich, lush lehengas and sarees, but what makes it non-Indo Caribbean based is our intersectionality and being from tropical places. Guyanese fashion has a little more inclination to show skin that comes from carnival culture. So it’s definitely forming,” Ali said.

Ali also strategically places a Guyanese flag into each of her pieces as a way to ground and connect to her identity. 

Guyanese Creatives as Record Keepers 

As a culture that has experienced erasure through colonization, Ali notes the importance of Guyanese creatives who reference their culture as record keepers. 

“It’s always important to ask our aunts and uncles and our grandparents, tell me about this, where this comes from, and learn about the history of different objects, foods and languages. Guyanese people in the fashion industry who reference their culture need to do their research and understand that as an American-born Guyanese person, you should also be a record keeper to protect the history and culture. It’s important we don’t lose a lot of it” Ali said.

Challenges in the Fashion Industry 

Battling with imposter syndrome has been a challenge for Ali, especially navigating people’s perceptions because of her race, gender and age. She also recalls the struggle of breaking through in the fashion world, “I’ve been belittled because of my age, because I’m a girl, because of my lack of experience. It’s hard to break into the industry and get those design roles even if you have a BFA. I do think I get underestimated because of my age, race and experience.” 

Despite this, however, Ali believes that sometimes you don’t need to be at the fashion table if it is not serving you, if something isn’t made for you, make it yourself. 

Future Goals 

Ali hopes to create more than just a fashion brand but a cultural connector that unifies and spans all Caribbean identities while addressing racial divides.  She hopes that the reputation of NESSA will attract attention to Caribbean carnival culture.

“Because carnival is a fashion show, it takes artists to make those. I would love to host a NESSA fete in the states, the islands and Guyana to highlight the fashion and throw a huge party while simultaneously bringing the different cultures and ethnicities in the Caribbean together. There’s always that underlying issue of racial disunity in the Caribbean, so I see NESSA as a cultural connector just fighting those things that the older generation didn’t do their best to overcome.”  

For all Guyanese kids growing up in Queens, NESSA taps into the intersections of our hyphenated identities across generations. The future of NESSA and other cultural creative brands are pathways to reimaging fashion and art while forging a new meaning of Guyanese identity. 

To learn more and shop, visit nessathebrand.com and @nessa.thebrand on Instagram. 

The post Urban Street Style Meets Fashion Through NESSA—the First Guyanese Women’s Streetwear Brand  appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

What truly elevates “Upside Brown” is its well-developed characters. Each one comes with its own quirks, backstories, and challenges, giving depth to the overall plot. The show centers around the Tyagi family, whose internal conflicts reflect the generational and cultural struggles familiar to many South Asian households. The patriarch, Amol, grapples with his desire to control his children and wife while remaining unaware of the shifting dynamics around him. His children increasingly challenge his traditional views—his daughter Shweta, who resists his attempts to arrange her marriage, and his son, an aspiring chef whose dreams don’t align with his father’s expectations.

Amol’s struggles aren’t the only source of tension. The series also delves into his wife’s extramarital affair and the arrival of Amol’s childhood friend, whose personal issues further complicate the family dynamics. These layers of interpersonal drama give “Upside Brown” its edge, mixing humor with real-life struggles that many viewers can relate to.

 

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What makes this nine-episode series particularly enjoyable is its ability to capture the complexities of first and second-generation Indian families. The Tyagi family’s identity, tradition, and change challenges reflect a broader conversation in many South Asian communities today. Whether it’s the pressure to maintain cultural traditions or the desire to forge a new identity in a modern world, Upside Brown doesn’t shy away from showing both sides.

[Read Related: Are you Laughing With us or at us? South Asian Representation in Sitcoms]

For fans of character-driven comedies, “Upside Brown” is a must-watch. The engaging plot and strong performances keep the audience hooked, and the authentic portrayals of cultural and generational conflicts add a depth that is often missing in mainstream sitcoms. The show manages to balance humor and heart, and the relatability of the characters ensures that viewers will be left eagerly awaiting a second season.

Upside Brown is more than just a family comedy:

It’s a story of identity, tradition, and navigating the complexities of change. The laughter offers a lens into the modern South Asian experience, making it a show that resonates far beyond the typical sitcom format.

We caught up with “Upside Brown“ creators Yash and Rahul to learn more about the inspiration behind the show, their creative process, and what lies ahead for the series. We also hosted the creators an epic screening with some of our New York friends and creators at the BG Clubhouse.

 

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Note: Some answers have been shortened for brevity.

What inspired you to pursue filmmaking?

Rahul: Filmmaking was always in the background for me. Growing up, I’d create movies in my head, but it wasn’t until I realized my engineering career wasn’t fulfilling that I started exploring storytelling through acting, writing, and directing. Over time, I discovered my love for filmmaking.

Yash: Watching “The Dark Knight” in 2010 was a turning point. The film’s confidence and epic storytelling inspired me to create something that could spark the same sense of awe in others.

Who are your biggest filmmaking idols?

Rahul: Anurag Basu, Imtiaz Ali, and Rajkumar Hirani. Their focus on multi-layered characters and messages that aren’t spoon-fed has influenced my approach to storytelling.

Yash: Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, and Aaron Sorkin. Nolan’s epic narratives, Tarantino’s tension-filled dialogue, and Sorkin’s rhythmic writing have all shaped my style, along with Rajkumar Hirani’s ability to blend humor with deep themes.

How long did it take to finalize the script for Upside Brown?

The idea came in August 2020, and by April 2021, we had shot the pilot. Writing episodes 1-8 was relatively smooth, but episode 8, which relied heavily on visual comedy, took two brainstorming sessions to perfect.

How do you balance humor with serious themes like family and cultural identity?

We draw from real-life experiences within the South Asian community. We wanted to strike a balance by showing real-life moments—like awkwardly open conversations about health—while drawing on shared generational gaps for comedy. But we also wanted to explore serious emotions authentically, allowing a scene’s natural tone to shift between comedy and drama based on the characters’ journeys.

[Read Related: Poorna Jagannathan and Richa Moorjani of Netflix’s ‘Never Have I Ever’ on Womanhood, Racism, and Issues Generations of Desi Women Still Struggle With]

Which character do you relate to the most?

Rahul: Vijay Malhotra, as his journey from pursuing a nontraditional career mirrors my own path from engineering to filmmaking.

Yash: Bunty represents my inner child, while Akash reflects my laid-back optimism. Shalini captures my neutral stance when dealing with people who’ve hurt me.

Any funny or challenging moments during filming?

The large group scenes, like the condom scene in episode 3, were both fun and challenging. Keeping everyone in sync, especially with the mockumentary-style filming, was tricky but rewarding. We had a few moments where cast members couldn’t stop laughing, which made shooting a blast.

What advice would you give to aspiring South Asian filmmakers?

Start small. Don’t wait for opportunities—create them. Shoot a short film, embrace failure, and treat each challenge like a puzzle. Every draft or setback is part of the process of honing your craft.

As “Upside Brown” continues to captivate audiences with its relatable humor and thoughtful portrayal of South Asian family dynamics, it’s clear that the show is just the beginning for creators Yash and Rahul. Their unique approach to storytelling, blending personal experiences with universal themes, has struck a chord with viewers within and beyond the South Asian community.

 

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With a second season on the horizon and other exciting projects in the works, “Upside Brown” is poised not only to entertain but also to spark meaningful conversations about identity, culture, and the generational divide. Keep an eye on this duo—they’re just getting started.

The post ‘Upside Brown’: An Independently Shot, Fresh Take on South Asian Family Dynamics appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

 

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After being exposed to the different educational experiences in Canada and Guyana, 18-year-old Bhumika Ashwar established G.E.M. for Guyana (Girls’ Education Matters), a non-profit aimed at combating the challenges Guyanese women face to access post-secondary education. As she readies herself for the fall academic year, Ashwar is adamant about hoisting other Guyanese women to reach educational achievements they previously thought unreachable through her charity’s scholarships.

Growing up in Canada with parental roots in Berbice, Guyana, Ashwar was heavily involved in the Indo Caribbean diasporic experience at her family’s temple, Bhavani Shankar Mandir. She actively engaged in community service from a young age and participated in singing, dancing, chanting and cleaning. With her father as the temple’s religious leader, she often looked to her parents as role models when finding enjoyment in helping others. This interest was further propelled, during her college application process, upon hearing that her mother could not pursue a degree at the University of Guyana due to financial and transportation/lodging constraints when living in Berbice. 

After visiting Guyana multiple times, Ashwar realized that many young women were in similar circumstances lacking resources and support. The desire to obtain post-secondary education to establish an independent career was also not as normalized as in Canada. 

“Many people believe that it is the women’s duty to only stay at home, have children, and not have the choice to work for themselves or their family. Even if they can work, it is often domestic jobs such as selling at a market or retail. I realized that many women may not see the need to continue their education, as they are not exposed to other higher ranking ambitious jobs,” Ashwar said. 

Ashwar’s charity G.E.M. For Guyana was created in May 2023 after she wanted to take a stand in changing the narrative surrounding educated and working women in Guyana. By awarding scholarships and financial funds, she hopes that recipients are empowered to pursue personal ambitions and diversified careers. She states, “If girls are exposed to the benefits that a degree will get them, such as good quality jobs and their own income, then their advancement may be more plausible.” Ultimately, Ashwar wants a more educated and employed female population to drive change and create greater leadership opportunities for women throughout various industries that contribute to Guyana’s economy.

 

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To spread awareness about G.E.M. and spearhead donation efforts, Ashwar traveled to Guyana in March to speak to graduating high school classes, particularly to girls who are interested in attending post-secondary school. Ashwar also credits social media and word of mouth for people to learn more and donate to G.E.M. Specifically, she is encouraged by the response and willingness of Canadians to give back to Guyana through charitable donations. When looking to the future, Ashwar’s one-year plan for G.E.M. includes continuing funding of several scholarship recipients and expanding endowments to cover transportation, textbooks and additional expenses associated with post-secondary schooling.

Applicants to G.E.M. For Guyana must demonstrate selflessness and a sense of community service, a passion for learning and a commitment to further their educational aspirations. Despite living in Canada, Ashwar understands the importance of being visible to her applicants as a woman with specific educational and career goals. This upcoming fall, she plans to attend The University of Guelph for Biomedical Science in Guelph, Ontario and pursue a career in healthcare while overseeing the collection and distribution of G.E.M.. for Guyana’s scholarships. 

 

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Ashwar is thankful for the funds G.E.M. For Guyana has awarded so far through her fundraising and awareness efforts. Managing her academics with G.E.M For Guyana has not been difficult, as she has developed perseverance and time management since her early days in the temple. She encourages women who are also interested in community service or education to cultivate the discipline and commitment needed to succeed and not waiver despite hardship. Overall, Ashwar believes the positivity and fulfillment felt in supporting communities, making genuine connections with others and expanding on self-growth capabilities outweighs the stress and nerves that naturally come with new endeavors. 

The use of direct funds and scholarships through G.E.M. For Guyana is a means to challenge the societal pressures that make it harder for Guyanese women to seek higher education and employment. While Ashwar understands that these obstacles must be dismantled through governmental and social change, she is fervent in supporting the advancement of women in any way she can. She knows that women have the innate potential to uplift themselves and their communities. When given access and opportunity, women ultimately are granted the agency to lead a more healthy and productive life and contribute to more stable and equal societies.

To follow G.E.M. For Guyana, visit their Instagram and website.

The post Girls’ Education Matters: Bhumika Ashwar on the Importance of Funding Female Success  appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.

[Read Related: Alison Roman, ‘The Stew’ and the Need for Mindful Global Cooking]

Mumtaz Mustafa and Laura Klynstra illustrate exactly this in their new cookbook, “Gather and Graze“. A collection of 175 homemade recipes featuring small bites and gorgeous table scrapes, whilst drawing inspiration from global cuisines, the book tells a story of friendship and connection that is unbreakable across intersectionality and lived experience. While Mustafa grew up in Karachi, Pakistan, and Klynstra was raised in Michigan, the creation of their book demonstrates how two friends and colleagues can connect over different perceptions of the same cultural experience.

 

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“Gather and Graze“ is unique in that it provides readers captivating illustrations and graphics that elicit memories of what we all have in our pantries, but also the beautiful moments those have led to in our kitchens with friends and family. Mustafa and Klynstra offer readers with an interesting guidebook on how to build elegant yet easy charcuterie boards and eye-capturing tablescapes.

[Read Related: Fulfill your Desi Cravings With this ‘Indian-ish’ Recipe Book]

What is particularly refreshing is that the recipes within the cookbook  take readers on a journey through the evolution of Middle Eastern and European cooking by including ingredients that have essentially been staples in South Asian cooking since the spice trade. At the same time, “Gather and Graze” also includes recipes and ingredients that the modern-day cook would have lying around in their pantry and can easily infuse into their creations like Gochuchang, for example.

What I appreciated about this book most, in addition to the many mouthwatering recipes that it includes, is the multitude of ranges the book presents: there is range in the simplest of recipes to more complex items; there is range in where the spices to meals can be found historically in the world all the way to how the items can be presented on your table at home once completely prepared. Mustafa and Klynstra — as artists, creators, and friends — have managed to create a literary experience that translates to a meaningful and cherished time that one can have with friends and family through cooking. “Gather and Graze” makes you feel like the authors are right there in your kitchen every step of the way.

The post ‘Gather and Graze’: Blending Cultures Through Cooking appeared first on Brown Girl Magazine.