When I applied for the Banyan Impact Fellowship in February 2025, I was in one of the most uncertain phases of my life. I had left my previous job for a much-needed wellbeing break, and by then, I was already four months into unemployment. Having completed a year-long fellowship right after my master’s and another year as a full-time employee, I remember sitting down to apply and asking myself— wait, why am I doing this again?
As I worked through the essay questions, reflecting on why I wanted to work in the development sector, I kept tracing the roots of my curiosity. Maybe it all started when I shifted from engineering to pursue a Master’s in Gender Studies in my mid-twenties. What some might call a “quarter-life crisis” felt more like an awakening for me- it was a way to understand society, its structures, and the possibilities for change. And whenever I think about what really sparked this curiosity, my mind always goes back to the women in my family.
My grandmother has always been the anchor of my life. It wasn’t until I was about to leave for college that she shared her story. Growing up in Majuli, Assam, the world’s largest river island, she lived in a time when very few girls were allowed to go to school. Though her father let her study for a short while, her education ended when she was married off to my grandfather, much older than her.
As a young wife and mother, she balanced household responsibilities and financial struggles. Yet she never gave up on securing a better future for her children. She attended night school after finishing her chores and eventually passed her matriculation exams, which later helped her get a government job. Before I left home, she told me something I’ve never forgotten: learning doesn’t always come from book; it’s everywhere, in every experience life gives you. So never stop learning!
I grew up watching her live those words. Even though she was bound by the norms of her time, I have seen my mother and aunts challenge those very same rules and carve their own paths toward independence. Those stories of curiosity, courage, and resilience shaped how I see the world.
Through my mother, I also started reconnecting with my Mising (one of Assam’s indigenous tribal communities) heritage. Born and raised in the city, I often felt disconnected from my roots. But visiting my mother’s village in rural Assam reminded me of the vibrant culture and spirit of our people who are often called the “River People” living along the banks of the mighty river— Brahmaputra. Despite annual floods, displacement, and limited resources, the community rebuilds with creativity and hope. Women, in particular, always took the lead, be it working in fields, weaving, managing homes, or speaking up for change even without formal education. Witnessing their strength keeps inspiring me and reminds me why I chose to work toward a more inclusive society.
When I was asked during my interview, “Why another fellowship?”, I paused for a moment. I didn’t have a rehearsed answer, only the honest reflection that I still had so much to explore and understand about how development work happens on the ground. I wanted a space to grow, to observe, and to exchange ideas with mentors and peers from diverse backgrounds.
What really drew me in was the chance to meet Fellows from the U.S. and different states across India. Each person brought their own experiences, cultural perspectives, and interests, creating a space buzzing with ideas and curiosity. It promised a way to broaden my perspective, deepen my understanding of social inclusion, and dive into the richness of India’s diversity.
The wait for onboarding turned out to be a lesson in itself. It taught me patience— to trust the process and stay hopeful even when things felt uncertain. That waiting period wasn’t wasted; it was a time to pause, reflect, and prepare myself for the journey ahead. Perseverance, I realized, isn’t just about pushing forward but also about observing, pausing, and letting things unfold at their own pace.
Moving to Bangalore for my host organization placement brought a whole new set of adjustments. The city’s fast pace and traffic-packed streets meant reorganizing routines, while my project in disability inclusion kept challenging me to question assumptions and truly listen. Every day offers small moments to observe, reflect, and engage meaningfully, with my supervisors, coworkers, community members, and even myself. I’m learning to slow down and approach interactions with attention and empathy, one conversation at a time.
These are just the early phases of my Fellowship journey. The months ahead will no doubt bring new perspectives, surprises, and challenges that might even change how I see development work and life. For now, I’m carrying the stories of the women who shaped me, the resilience of my community, and a curiosity that keeps me asking questions and exploring and as I step into this new chapter, I hope to nurture these values.
