Your career spans community empowerment, representation, and building platforms for underserved voices. Which chapter of that journey feels most defining for you, and why?
The chapter that feels most defining is the realisation that building these kinds of platforms is about creating space, not taking it. After the success of RecommendAsian and ProfessionalAsian, I noticed others attempting to replicate the model, often with the intention of centering their own businesses or visibility. That moment clarified something essential for me: a community is never about the individual who sets it up. It is about the people within it. I’ve learned to take a deliberate step back. One of the most powerful things about a true community is that it sustains itself – people answer each other’s questions, offer support, and share knowledge organically. I contribute when I can, but I’m careful not to hijack conversations. This space isn’t about me; it’s about what participants need and what they can give one another. Representation, in this context, goes beyond visibility. It’s about who feels heard. Those who post feel acknowledged; those who respond feel valued. It’s not driven by ego, but by responsibility, by the quiet, consistent work of nurturing an environment where people empower one another. While I may manage the platform, the community truly builds itself. These voices support each other, represent one another, and grow together – because they deserve to be heard.
Many people know your public-facing achievements, but not the emotional or personal resilience behind them. What’s one moment of challenge that fundamentally shaped the leader you are today?
In 2022, I lost my husband. He passed away on Christmas Day, and that experience fundamentally reshaped who I am. Until then, I had been open with my community, but grief has a way of asking you to show up fully, and often very publicly. I chose to do so because I felt safe. I trusted that this was a space where people would listen, not as followers, but as humans. What mattered most was that the community showed up for me not as a leader, but as a person. I shared my journey – my thoughts, my feelings, my uncertainty – and in doing so, the relationship shifted. For the first time, I felt held. I no longer felt the need to control or orchestrate the space; instead, I experienced what it means to truly need a community, and to be supported by it. That moment changed how I see leadership altogether. It dissolved the boundary between my personal life and my professional one. My lived experience began to inform every decision I made, and I allowed that truth to enter my business as well. What people now see in the community is simply me – unpolished, vulnerable, and honest. I stopped striving for perfection or performance. I became comfortable showing up as I am. And that reality, unfiltered and human, created a deeper sense of connection. People relate not because I stand apart, but because I stand among them. I no longer feel the need to be anything other than myself.
RecommendAsian and ProfessionalAsian have become two of the most trusted spaces for connection and community uplift. What was the spark that pushed you to create them, and what impact are you proudest of?
RecommendAsian began in the simplest way. Someone once recommended a sari pleater to me, a small but transformative gadget, because I couldn’t tie my own sari, and I was so delighted by it that I wanted to share it with my friends. That was it. There was no grand vision, no intention to build a platform or a community. I never imagined it would grow from a group of 200 people into something reaching thousands. In many ways, the spark was about helping myself, but in doing so, it ended up helping so many others. That impact is what I’m most proud of. Whether it’s something small – a practical tip, a trusted supplier, a cleaner, an eyebrow threading place – or something more far-reaching, each recommendation touches someone’s life. A business gains new customers, a person finds a solution, a problem becomes easier to navigate. And then there are the moments that carry far greater weight. People have found support through domestic violence situations, accessed therapy, and been guided through fertility journeys. Those impacts are profound. Taken together, they reveal what this platform truly is: a space where everyone is affected, directly or indirectly, in ways both big and small. What makes it even more meaningful is that none of this was forced. It wasn’t premeditated or engineered. It evolved organically, shaped by real needs and real generosity. The platform grew because it was useful, because it was human, and because it helped people help one another. That kind of evolution is rare, and it’s something to be deeply proud of.
Hey Gorgeous has had an extraordinary cultural run. How did that project shape your understanding of trade in our communities?
Hey Gorgeous is a phenomenal event for many reasons, but what sets it apart is that it is fundamentally relationship-led, not transaction-driven. Twice a year, more than 100 businesses come together, and over time I’ve witnessed countless brands evolve within this space. What’s striking is how sales here are born from connection. People arrive curious and engaged – they touch, feel, smell, and experience products firsthand; they speak directly to founders; they understand provenance and passion. That intimacy builds trust, and trust is what ultimately drives purchasing. The impact goes far beyond the product itself. Visibility changes everything. I’ve watched vendors grow increasingly confident year after year, forming deep, lasting relationships with their customers, some of whom return time and again. In an increasingly digital world, that face-to-face exchange is invaluable for small business owners. There is also immense pride in seeing women-led businesses thrive. With a strong representation of female founders, Hey Gorgeous consistently showcases excellence, ambition, and resilience. It’s so affirming to watch these businesses not only succeed, but build loyal communities around their work. Cultural familiarity plays an important role too. While the market is open to everyone, many of the products speak directly to Asian heritage and lived experience – items you won’t find on the high street, offerings that feel personal and considered. For attendees, there’s something powerful about encountering products made specifically with them in mind. Finally, Hey Gorgeous fosters collaboration as much as commerce. Vendors meet, exchange ideas, and support one another, blurring the boundaries between business, culture, and community. That intersection is what makes the event so compelling, and why it continues to resonate.
As Co founder of Luxurist Magazine, How does your editorial vision intersect with your wider mission of representation and community building?
Editorially, my priority is storytelling over tokenism. I want to move beyond surface-level representation and instead show how remarkable individuals truly show up in the world – how they work, think, and lead. That means challenging stereotypes and foregrounding credibility: musicians and actors, but also entrepreneurs, specialists, and experts in fields like health and finance – people whose knowledge, experience, and insight deserve real attention. There is an abundance of excellence that often goes unseen. These are people offering meaningful advice, building successful careers, and contributing deeply to their communities. It’s not just about celebrating celebrity, but about elevating everyday excellence, highlighting those who lead with substance and consistency. What matters most to me is visibility with purpose. To show people breaking glass ceilings, shaping conversations, and paving the way forward as thought leaders. Their stories don’t just inspire; they offer practical frameworks for what success can look like, and how it can be built on one’s own terms. Ultimately, I want the work to function as a cultural mirror, reflecting back to the community the depth, intelligence, and ambition that already exists. To show, without compromise, just how extraordinary we are.
Representation is entering a new era: more visible, more demanded, but also more scrutinised. As someone advocating for inclusion long before it was mainstream, what does “meaningful representation” look like to you today?
For me, it comes down to truth. I want representation to be grounded in merit rather than identity alone, allowing people to exist in all their complexity. That means making space for individuals to be ordinary and flawed, while still being successful – because the two are not mutually exclusive. What matters is individual presence. Everyone brings something singular: their experience, their contradictions, their way of moving through the world. Representation, to me, is about honouring that individuality and creating space for it to be seen without performance or polish. People are rarely defined solely by their ethnicity, gender, or background. They are shaped by work, perseverance, failure, ambition, and growth. Their stories deserve to be told on those terms. When representation is rooted in reality rather than optics, it becomes meaningful. All I want is for the work to reflect real people – showing up as themselves – and to allow representation to evolve naturally, across the board. Because when stories are honest, they resonate. And when they resonate, they matter.
From your perspective, what is still missing in the way Britain understands and supports Asian creatives and communities?
There are fewer stereotypes than there once were, but they still persist. Often, South Asian culture is flattened into its most visible or palatable layers – food, festivals, fashion – elements that are easy to celebrate without engaging with the people behind them. What feels necessary now is to move beyond cultural or diversity “boxes” and focus instead on individuals: what they are doing, what they are building, and how they are shaping the world around them. Too often, entire communities are painted with the same brush, reduced to assumptions rather than understood through nuance. That simplification does a disservice not only to creatives, but to the complexity of lived experience. Creativity doesn’t need justification. South Asian creatives should simply be allowed to create, sometimes drawing from heritage, sometimes not. Both are equally valid. The work does not need to explain itself. Within communities, there is also space for greater generosity and understanding. Standing together does not mean erasing difference. On the contrary, the diversity within South Asian communities, the contrasts, perspectives, and internal plurality, should be acknowledged and respected, not smoothed over or judged. This is not a question with a neat answer. But maybe that’s the point. Progress lies in allowing people to exist without expectation, to create without explanation, and to be seen not as symbols, but as individuals.
Your platforms have often been ahead of cultural conversations, addressing belonging, identity, entrepreneurship, and female leadership before they became popular topics. Where do you think the next cultural frontier lies for British Asians?
Female leadership still requires greater visibility, particularly within corporate structures. While entrepreneurship has seen meaningful progress, representation and equity at senior corporate levels remain limited. There are important conversations yet to be fully realised. Mental health is one of them. The dialogue is beginning to gain momentum, but it needs to be understood within a cultural context – acknowledged openly, supported more robustly, and approached without hesitation or stigma. The same applies to conversations around neurodiversity, including ADHD. These are areas that require deeper awareness, compassion, and education within our communities. One of the motivations behind creating RecommendAsian was a personal sense of cultural loss. My parents and grandmother were focused on assimilation into British society, which meant that while religion was passed down, many everyday traditions were not. What the platform has since enabled is a different kind of exchange: a space where cultural knowledge can move between generations, and where those more connected to their roots can share with those still finding their way. That sense of continuity is something I hope can be carried forward – to the next generation and beyond. Ultimately, the future I want to see is one rooted in openness: culturally, emotionally, and socially. A community that embraces evolution, addresses mental health without fear, and replaces judgement with care. That is where meaningful progress begins.
Awards are often seen as milestones, but your work has always pointed forward. What is the next ambition personal, cultural, or professional that this honour has given you the confidence to pursue?
Some of the initiatives so far have understandably been reactive – responding to moments rather than shaping what comes next. Now feels like the time to shift towards legacy thinking: building long-term projects, expanding influence, and opening doors for others in a more deliberate way. That means carrying this cultural work into more formal decision-making spaces, where it can have lasting impact. As we move forward, it’s essential to protect the integrity of what has already been built. The work has value because it has been thoughtful, considered, and community-led. With that foundation in place, there is room for greater ambition, to create more opportunities, more visibility, and more space for people to truly thrive. In essence, it’s about momentum with intention. Onwards and upwards – but with purpose.
