Being a first-generation Indian immigrant, I was raised in a family that held education and service in the highest regard. Whenever I rewind the clock and recall my childhood in a small village in Punjab, India, images of women rolling flatbread on clay stoves, pounding millet flour, and hand-washing clothes on the veranda come to mind. In the absence of any formal educational opportunities, my people's faces were etched with determination to work hard to have their children's basic needs met. While I belonged to the same generation and had the same poverty-stricken fate, I had the opportunity to live a different life in the land of milk and honey. We immigrated to the United States with very few possessions, but ambition and suitcases full of hopes and dreams. Naturally not being formally educated and with limited skillsets, my parents worked long hours to make ends meet. My father worked the graveyard shift as a security guard at Walmart and my mother took on three jobs at fast food restaurants. Education was my only gateway out of poverty. I devoted myself to my academics and was fruitful in my pursuit of higher education. All the while, I remain mindful of the sacrifices my family made and of where I come from. I want to use my career to create positive change in marginalized communities, and to have their thoughts, feelings, and experiences valued. I want to empower them and provide them with a level playing field to attain a fulfilling life, personally and professionally. My heritage plays a huge role in my academic endeavors. In my role as a South Asian female, I have gained invaluable insight into the struggles that women and children in marginalized communities face. This understanding has been a driving force in my research and has allowed me to explore topics that are often ignored or overlooked. A brave, yet necessary act is going there despite being asked not to. When I tell people that I am majoring in International Studies at the University of California, Irvine I often receive confused looks and comments. Many do not have a thorough understanding of what the emerging field entails or why I chose it. I chose International Studies because I believe it is the most meaningful way for me to understand the world. I am engaged in an interdisciplinary field that enables me to examine various cultures, and socioeconomic, political, and other such power systems to address global issues. It is imperative to understand this complexity to devise effective solutions. My most recent project was in collaboration with my Global Human Trafficking professor, involving children who were orphaned due to COVID in India. As a research assistant, I helped analyze the public discourse and legal policy developments around the care of children who lost parents and adult kin to COVID-19 deaths in India. Through this process, we were able to identify gaps in existing public policies and provide recommendations for promoting the educational, social and psychological well-being of this undervalued group of children. For my next research project, I am investigating the experiences of marginalized groups of children during the Partition of India. The objective of my research is to humanize the stories of ordinary children impacted by lines of caste, class, and gender. Combining my personal and professional background allows me to contribute meaningfully to my community. If I have the honor of being their voice, I want to make sure it doesn't just sound but echo. This scholarship will provide me with the platform to do so.

Being a first-generation Indian immigrant, I was raised in a family that held education and service in the highest regard. Whenever I rewind the clock and recall my childhood in a small village in Punjab, India, images of women rolling flatbread on clay stoves, pounding millet flour, and hand-washing clothes on the veranda come to mind. In the absence of any formal educational opportunities, my people's faces were etched with determination to work hard to have their children's basic needs met. While I belonged to the same generation and had the same poverty-stricken fate, I had the opportunity to live a different life in the land of milk and honey. We immigrated to the United States with very few possessions, but ambition and suitcases full of hopes and dreams. Naturally not being formally educated and with limited skillsets, my parents worked long hours to make ends meet. My father worked the graveyard shift as a security guard at Walmart and my mother took on three jobs at fast food restaurants. Education was my only gateway out of poverty. I devoted myself to my academics and was fruitful in my pursuit of higher education. All the while, I remain mindful of the sacrifices my family made and of where I come from. I want to use my career to create positive change in marginalized communities, and to have their thoughts, feelings, and experiences valued. I want to empower them and provide them with a level playing field to attain a fulfilling life, personally and professionally. My heritage plays a huge role in my academic endeavors. In my role as a South Asian female, I have gained invaluable insight into the struggles that women and children in marginalized communities face. This understanding has been a driving force in my research and has allowed me to explore topics that are often ignored or overlooked. A brave, yet necessary act is going there despite being asked not to. When I tell people that I am majoring in International Studies at the University of California, Irvine I often receive confused looks and comments. Many do not have a thorough understanding of what the emerging field entails or why I chose it. I chose International Studies because I believe it is the most meaningful way for me to understand the world. I am engaged in an interdisciplinary field that enables me to examine various cultures, and socioeconomic, political, and other such power systems to address global issues. It is imperative to understand this complexity to devise effective solutions. My most recent project was in collaboration with my Global Human Trafficking professor, involving children who were orphaned due to COVID in India. As a research assistant, I helped analyze the public discourse and legal policy developments around the care of children who lost parents and adult kin to COVID-19 deaths in India. Through this process, we were able to identify gaps in existing public policies and provide recommendations for promoting the educational, social and psychological well-being of this undervalued group of children. For my next research project, I am investigating the experiences of marginalized groups of children during the Partition of India. The objective of my research is to humanize the stories of ordinary children impacted by lines of caste, class, and gender. Combining my personal and professional background allows me to contribute meaningfully to my community. If I have the honor of being their voice, I want to make sure it doesn't just sound but echo. This scholarship will provide me with the platform to do so.

Being a first-generation Indian immigrant, I was raised in a family that held education and service in the highest regard. Whenever I rewind the clock and recall my childhood in a small village in Punjab, India, images of women rolling flatbread on clay stoves, pounding millet flour, and hand-washing clothes on the veranda come to mind. In the absence of any formal educational opportunities, my people's faces were etched with determination to work hard to have their children's basic needs met. While I belonged to the same generation and had the same poverty-stricken fate, I had the opportunity to live a different life in the land of milk and honey. We immigrated to the United States with very few possessions, but ambition and suitcases full of hopes and dreams. Naturally not being formally educated and with limited skillsets, my parents worked long hours to make ends meet. My father worked the graveyard shift as a security guard at Walmart and my mother took on three jobs at fast food restaurants. Education was my only gateway out of poverty. I devoted myself to my academics and was fruitful in my pursuit of higher education. All the while, I remain mindful of the sacrifices my family made and of where I come from. I want to use my career to create positive change in marginalized communities, and to have their thoughts, feelings, and experiences valued. I want to empower them and provide them with a level playing field to attain a fulfilling life, personally and professionally. My heritage plays a huge role in my academic endeavors. In my role as a South Asian female, I have gained invaluable insight into the struggles that women and children in marginalized communities face. This understanding has been a driving force in my research and has allowed me to explore topics that are often ignored or overlooked. A brave, yet necessary act is going there despite being asked not to. When I tell people that I am majoring in International Studies at the University of California, Irvine I often receive confused looks and comments. Many do not have a thorough understanding of what the emerging field entails or why I chose it. I chose International Studies because I believe it is the most meaningful way for me to understand the world. I am engaged in an interdisciplinary field that enables me to examine various cultures, and socioeconomic, political, and other such power systems to address global issues. It is imperative to understand this complexity to devise effective solutions. My most recent project was in collaboration with my Global Human Trafficking professor, involving children who were orphaned due to COVID in India. As a research assistant, I helped analyze the public discourse and legal policy developments around the care of children who lost parents and adult kin to COVID-19 deaths in India. Through this process, we were able to identify gaps in existing public policies and provide recommendations for promoting the educational, social and psychological well-being of this undervalued group of children. For my next research project, I am investigating the experiences of marginalized groups of children during the Partition of India. The objective of my research is to humanize the stories of ordinary children impacted by lines of caste, class, and gender. Combining my personal and professional background allows me to contribute meaningfully to my community. If I have the honor of being their voice, I want to make sure it doesn't just sound but echo.

Being a first-generation Indian immigrant, I was raised in a family that held education and service in the highest regard. Whenever I rewind the clock and recall my childhood in a small village in Punjab, India, images of women rolling flatbread on clay stoves, pounding millet flour, and hand-washing clothes on the veranda come to mind. In the absence of any formal educational opportunities, my people's faces were etched with determination to work hard to have their children's basic needs met. While I belonged to the same generation and had the same poverty-stricken fate, I had the opportunity to live a different life in the land of milk and honey. We immigrated to the United States with very few possessions, but ambition and suitcases full of hopes and dreams. Naturally not being formally educated and with limited skillsets, my parents worked long hours to make ends meet. My father worked the graveyard shift as a security guard at Walmart and my mother took on three jobs at fast food restaurants. Education was my only gateway out of poverty. I devoted myself to my academics and was fruitful in my pursuit of higher education. All the while, I remain mindful of the sacrifices my family made and of where I come from. I want to use my career to create positive change in marginalized communities, and to have their thoughts, feelings, and experiences valued. I want to empower them and provide them with a level playing field to attain a fulfilling life, personally and professionally. My heritage plays a huge role in my academic endeavors. In my role as a South Asian female, I have gained invaluable insight into the struggles that women and children in marginalized communities face. This understanding has been a driving force in my research and has allowed me to explore topics that are often ignored or overlooked. A brave, yet necessary act is going there despite being asked not to. When I tell people that I am majoring in International Studies at the University of California, Irvine I often receive confused looks and comments. Many do not have a thorough understanding of what the emerging field entails or why I chose it. I chose International Studies because I believe it is the most meaningful way for me to understand the world. I am engaged in an interdisciplinary field that enables me to examine various cultures, and socioeconomic, political, and other such power systems to address global issues. It is imperative to understand this complexity to devise effective solutions. My most recent project was in collaboration with my Global Human Trafficking professor, involving children who were orphaned due to COVID in India. As a research assistant, I helped analyze the public discourse and legal policy developments around the care of children who lost parents and adult kin to COVID-19 deaths in India. Through this process, we were able to identify gaps in existing public policies and provide recommendations for promoting the educational, social and psychological well-being of this undervalued group of children. For my next research project, I am investigating the experiences of marginalized groups of children during the Partition of India. The objective of my research is to humanize the stories of ordinary children impacted by lines of caste, class, and gender. Combining my personal and professional background allows me to contribute meaningfully to my community. If I have the honor of being their voice, I want to make sure it doesn't just sound but echo.

Being a first-generation Indian immigrant, I was raised in a family that held education and service in the highest regard. Whenever I rewind the clock and recall my childhood in a small village in Punjab, India, images of women rolling flatbread on clay stoves, pounding millet flour, and hand-washing clothes on the veranda come to mind. In the absence of any formal educational opportunities, my people's faces were etched with determination to work hard to have their children's basic needs met. While I belonged to the same generation and had the same poverty-stricken fate, I had the opportunity to live a different life in the land of milk and honey. We immigrated to the United States with very few possessions, but ambition and suitcases full of hopes and dreams. Naturally not being formally educated and with limited skillsets, my parents worked long hours to make ends meet. My father worked the graveyard shift as a security guard at Walmart and my mother took on three jobs at fast food restaurants. Education was my only gateway out of poverty. I devoted myself to my academics and was fruitful in my pursuit of higher education. All the while, I remain mindful of the sacrifices my family made and of where I come from. I want to use my career to create positive change in marginalized communities, and to have their thoughts, feelings, and experiences valued. I want to empower them and provide them with a level playing field to attain a fulfilling life, personally and professionally. My heritage plays a huge role in my academic endeavors. In my role as a South Asian female, I have gained invaluable insight into the struggles that women and children in marginalized communities face. This understanding has been a driving force in my research and has allowed me to explore topics that are often ignored or overlooked. A brave, yet necessary act is going there despite being asked not to. When I tell people that I am majoring in International Studies at the University of California, Irvine I often receive confused looks and comments. Many do not have a thorough understanding of what the emerging field entails or why I chose it. I chose International Studies because I believe it is the most meaningful way for me to understand the world. I am engaged in an interdisciplinary field that enables me to examine various cultures, and socioeconomic, political, and other such power systems to address global issues. It is imperative to understand this complexity to devise effective solutions. My most recent project was in collaboration with my Global Human Trafficking professor, involving children who were orphaned due to COVID in India. As a research assistant, I helped analyze the public discourse and legal policy developments around the care of children who lost parents and adult kin to COVID-19 deaths in India. Through this process, we were able to identify gaps in existing public policies and provide recommendations for promoting the educational, social and psychological well-being of this undervalued group of children. For my next research project, I am investigating the experiences of marginalized groups of children during the Partition of India. The objective of my research is to humanize the stories of ordinary children impacted by lines of caste, class, and gender. Combining my personal and professional background allows me to contribute meaningfully to my community. If I have the honor of being their voice, I want to make sure it doesn't just sound but echo.

In the tapestry of tomorrow, my dream self emerges as a radiant soul, an eternal student of life, weaving a symphony of compassion and enlightenment to adorn. As a published writer and researcher with a voice that echoes, she is devoted to empowering marginalized groups to create a more equitable world. She lives a life of purpose and passion, and her legacy will be one of hope and resilience.

Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger imparts poignant lessons about life, growing up, and the human condition. This book broke through me like a swift and unstoppable current. It spoke to me in a way that no other book has that is both profound and deeply sacred. For anyone who has ever felt overwhelmed by the journey and changes of life, this book is a must-read. It teaches the power of shedding old lives and entering new ones, of facing the unknown, and of loving and letting go. Holden's character is one of a person who is dejected and longing for a real connection. His grief over the death of his brother is compounded by the grief he feels as his loved ones grow up and apart. It is this loneliness that gnaws away at him. As a savior of innocence, he seeks comfort by feeding off of nostalgia, preserving moments and people as museums do. The feeling of living inside one's head, replaying old memories to relive them again, and wanting to be elsewhere, are all things everyone has felt at some point in time. In answer to Holden's question about how ducks survive the bitter winter, the taxi driver emphasizes the importance of resilience and adaptability. A duck does not migrate or flee from the changing season but endures in the icy ponds. Their bodies adapt, growing thicker feathers to ensure their survival. I found this to be profound in many ways. In the same way that ducks adapt to their physical environment, so can we adapt to our emotional environments. This resilience is an example of the power of the human spirit. It's a common misconception taught to us that growth happens someplace far, in a large place surrounded by powerful people. But, in reality, it starts within you in the here and now. Human nature is to learn, grow, and evolve. It's not something we conceive ourselves to be capable of until we go through it. Pleasant or unpleasant moments are fleeting but their residual impact is forever. While life may seem like a series of losses, what you do with what's been lost is the true teaching experience. As J.D. Salinger put it, "Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you react to it." Will you stand and deliver or will you cower in fear?

Strange thing, the brain. This neuroplastic brute, the master controller of all-powerful thought and action, is also the culprit that ensnares our demons in its dendritic branches, holding us captive. Many of us are unaware of the importance of our minds until they fail and deceive us, and we struggle to rule them back into commission. I was no exception. It was not until I became deeply entangled in my own neural web of fears, insecurities, and wounds that I began my journey toward mental health. This was the night when a part of me died. As I stared blankly, at the chalky white ceiling of the Emergency Room, paint chipping away at the corners, I felt removed from the moment. It was my breath, but it was laborious and shallow. Around me were patients of all ages and afflicted with various maladies. I took a deep breath and felt the anxiety radiating off of them all. I knew they were feeling the same fear I was feeling, and for a moment, I felt a kinship with them. It was as if we were all meditating on life's name hoping to come out alive, reborn. Years of being overwhelmed by the speed and complexity of my own internal monologue had brought me here. In this fast-paced world, it's easy to lose sight of your value when you're not producing, creating, or achieving. I got lost in the noise and chaos, feeling I was nothing more than a cog in the machine. But when I finally paused to listen and turned inwards, I heard my own voice. It didn't just sound, it echoed. I embraced it, took a deep breath, and stepped into a place of clarity. Mental health to me became more than a physical state of being; it became the essence of my existence. I value my mental health because what I think, feel, and exist for matters. I began a new way of life. I started with meditation and slowly worked to turn it into a daily ritual. I was once told by my meditation teacher that thoughts are like throwing a pebble into a river. It sends ripples across, but gradually the waves settle down. The same goes for my thoughts, which I should treat as waves that ebb and flow. Eventually, I’ll find my way to the surface. I was moved by his words and realized that there is a higher state beyond human sensibility, and beyond what we do or think. Additionally, I turned to creative writing as my solace. One of the biggest urges is to resist what we're feeling, to somehow remove ourselves from the moment or experience. Nonetheless, I have learned that it is bravest to accept the feelings or situation as it is and to process them creatively. The written word remains an instrumental part of my mental wellness. As I surrender myself to that exploratory experience, I am in deep alignment with my impulses and wounds. What you resist persists, and facing it frees you from it. It is through these daily practices and philosophies that I attain clarity, inner peace, and mental wellness. Truthfully, this hasn't been a journey without hiccups but I'm a firm believer that it is by cosmic will that we are here. Forrest Gump once wondered whether there was a larger force at play or whether we were all just floating around. The real answer, I don't know. If there is, we must stand and deliver to it. And that begins with honoring our minds.

Girls rolling flatbread on clay stoves, pounding millet flour, and handwashing clothes in the veranda with tawdry soap bars gnawing away at their skin: these are the images that come alive in my head when I think about my early childhood in a small village in Punjab, India. In the absence of any formal educational opportunities, my people's faces were etched with determination to work hard to have their children's basic needs met. I belonged to that same generation but my family and I received the golden opportunity to live a different life in the land of milk and honey. We immigrated to the United States with very few possessions, but ambition and suitcases full of hopes and dreams. Education was our gateway out of poverty and this opportunity was the biggest gift, no short of a miracle. Naturally not being formally educated and with limited skillsets, my parents worked long hours to make ends meet. My father worked the graveyard shift as a security guard at Walmart and my mother took on three jobs at fast food restaurants. As a routine procedure, she would leave for work at 8 in the morning and return at 11 at night, having clocked out and closed the pizza shop. One night, my mother came home upset at a coworker making fun of her poor English, looked me in the eye teary-eyed and said, "Please don't be like me." She told me her days of studying and becoming something were gone. She wanted me to make something of myself, and be a person I could be proud of. From that day on, I vowed never to take my education for granted or let her efforts be in vain. Seeing my parents work tirelessly, instilled in me a strong sense of responsibility and drive. I devoted myself to my academics and was fruitful in my pursuit of higher education. Despite all of this, I have not forgotten the sacrifices my family made and where I came from. My heritage plays a huge role in my academic endeavors. My background as a South Asian female has given me invaluable insight into the struggles women in marginalized communities face. I am passionate about using my education to empower these communities. When I tell people that I am majoring in International Studies at UCI, I am often met with condescending looks and comments. Many people do not have a thorough understanding of what the field entails or why I chose it. I chose International Studies because I believe it is the most meaningful way for me to understand the world. It is an interdisciplinary field that allows me to examine different cultures, socio-economic, political, and other power systems to address global issues. My most recent research project was in collaboration with my Global Trafficking professor involving children who were orphaned in South Asia during COVID. As a research assistant, I analyzed public discourse and legal/policy developments regarding orphan care. Our efforts enabled us to identify gaps in existing policies, make recommendations for improvement, and raise awareness. Meshing my social background with my professional work has given me a space to make meaningful contributions to my community. Being the first in my family to pursue higher education is a boon that comes with a great deal of responsibility. I consider it my duty to make a positive contribution in the lives of my community, for it is on their shoulders that I stand on. If I have the honor of being their voice, I want to make sure it doesn't just sound but echo.

My dream house is perched high atop a snow-capped mountain village. Nature's divine power is palpable to the soul as every hair of the body bristles awake from the crisp, cool air as if it were filled with life. The scent of fresh pine and cedar wafts like a warm embrace conveying that you have been brought here for a purpose. The turquoise river below flows like strands of silk, while birdsong fills the air as a flock of white doves take flight, their wings glistening like shards of glass. To the right rests a cascading waterfall, flowing like an endless white curtain so bright it cleanses your vision. Like a boat on a gentle river, a bed sits on the surface of the water, adorned with pillows of the purest white, and a blanket of the softest wool. The rhythm of the waves sways you like a lullaby, as the world around you fades away. Upon stepping foot inside the dreamhouse, you are greeted with the sound of a crackling log fire and the feel of plush carpet beneath your feet; it feels like you are floating on air. A wide panorama of the outside world is provided by the tall glass windows as delicate palm branches grow into the crevices of the walls, creating the illusion of a natural fortress. There is something regal about the Moroccan interior design. Wood carvings adorn the dome ceiling above, and dusty rose-pink and turquoise Zilij tiles line the walls and floors. With its arabesque design, this intricate rug and souk are complemented by the earthy tones of the Saharan desert. Naturally, as taste is the backbone of every home, a few steps forward is the kitchen. As with the rest of the house, the kitchen features a stunning arabesque design. Pots and pans made of earthen clay hang from the walls, and colorful spices line the countertop. Rich aromas fill your nostrils as the stories of the people before you come alive and linger on your tongue. An antique writer's room stands in the corner, filled with vintage paper, letters and scrolls. Here you will find all types of fountain pens seeking refuge in their inkwells, wax seals, and ink-stained pages of stories being birthed. It's a sacred place where the creator of words can be found, and where the beauty of the written word can be cherished. As you explore the room, a secret door opens like a portal to another realm. And a grandiose library awaits you. As in Beauty and the Beast, whereby a snap of the finger, a book appears out of thin air into your hands and is imprinted into your mind forever. But the most cherished room in my dreamhouse is the veranda, where peacocks strut and loved ones gather in unison weaving pashmina shawls, sipping on pink chai, and sharing stories. In this abode, people know neither hate nor fear. Love and art are all there is. This is the dwelling place of all the outcasts and brilliant minds that cannot be caged by society. It is where all the poets, mystics, and vagrants gather to share their deepest thoughts. For light is easy to love, but darkness is what makes us human. Under the lacquered black sky, as we gaze up at the northern lights with cotton flakes of snow landing gracefully atop our eyelashes, our voices echo. Our dreamhouse is illuminated by the light of the moon, and we are free.