Roots Hanging from the Banyan Tree

After the recent loss of Nani, my mother’s mother, my understanding of life and death began to shift. The youthful illusion of invincibility started to fade. In conversations with my mother, we realized that we both felt a sudden severance of our roots. In my grief, I grasped for memories of a simpler time.

Through documenting the daily lives of other Indian-American families, recollections of my childhood rituals began to flood back in. I found that I was not alone in my experiences and fears of losing connection with my heritage. As children of a diaspora, our cultural roots continue to grow and spread. The soil is ours; we flourish where we are planted.

These images represent my experience growing up between two cultures. The process of making this project has helped me to realize that the roots I feared were severed have always been with me, and will continue to sustain and empower me.