An afternoon at Harvard: The ‘journey of an India that came of age in the ’70s and ’80s’

And then there was Mehr Singh. Young, keen-eyed, sharp. A journalist whose byline was creeping into the most distinguished publications, telling stories about food, its history, and its power. She had the gift of bringing clarity to chaos, of shaping a narrative with precision and elegance. As she interviewed me, her questions wove through the landscape of my life—from my childhood in India to the kitchens of America, from the flame of my first dish to the ink of my first book. But what struck me most was her restraint. Mehr was not just the daughter of my sister’s best friends—she did not lean into familiarity or sentimentality. She approached me with the detachment of a professional, the curiosity of a scholar, and the grace of a storyteller who understands the weight of her craft.

If this moment had been a scene in a film, it would have been one of grandeur and quiet revelation. A moment where the past, present, and future of India converged on a single stage, watched by an audience that understood they were witnessing something more than just a conversation. Harvard operates on a scale that is undeniably big, but in that room, with Arshi orchestrating from the wings and Mehr shaping the dialogue, the bigness was not just Harvard’s. It was India’s.

My attire that day was a statement in itself—a natckin by Rohit Bal, black silken trousers that moved like water, shoes that spoke in whispers rather than declarations. And the jewellery—silver trinkets, rings encircling every finger, layers upon layers of adornments that jingled softly with every gesture. Every piece told a story—a tale of artisans, of generations, of an India whose craftsmanship remains unparalleled. The exquisite pieces I wore were from Amrapali Jewels, a name that has carried forward India’s legacy of adornment and artistry. I did not dress merely to impress; I dressed to disrupt, to challenge the narrow lens through which India is often seen—not as an exoticised trope, not as a predictable narrative, but as a living, evolving force that defies containment. India is not a nation to be boxed, to be framed in a way that makes others comfortable. India is vast. India is limitless. India is a contradiction and a harmony all at once.

As I spoke, as I reminisced, as I looked back on my journey, I bared all. I told the story of my life—my journey, and of my journey being a journey of an India that came of age in the ’70s and ’80s. An India that shone bright despite being a nation still developing. An India that found its way through the sheer force of resilience, through stories passed down, through a deep belief in collective progress. What kept us hopeful, what kept us alive, what kept us thinking, what kept us inspired were the many stories of India. Stories told through the lens of plurality, through the lens of hope for the future, through the comfort of today, through the respect for the past, and an unwavering belief in working hard to ensure that all of India came forward together. That belief shaped the India of today and will continue to shape the India of tomorrow.

And so, as I sat with Mehr, answering her questions, I knew that my presence here was more than a personal achievement. It was a moment of representation—a moment where the India of folklore met the India of today, where centuries of tradition met the crisp efficiency of policy minds like Arshi’s, where the elegance of storytelling met the fire of journalism. It was a moment where the world saw not just the India of the past but the India of the future—the India shaped by women like Arshi and Mehr.

This was soft power at its finest—the power of culture, of conversation, of the grace with which we navigate the global stage. India has always been a beacon—not just of history, but of continuity, of reinvention, of resilience. In that room, with snow gently settling outside, with students watching from every level, with voices engaged in dialogue rather than discord, I saw the India I believe in.

Mother India has always been. From the earliest hours of civilisation to the beating heart of today’s global economy, she has endured, she has led, she has inspired. And in the hands of this new generation—Mehr Singh, Arshi Aadil—she is in good keeping. India is no longer just a power on the rise. India is a power that is here to stay.