BIPA Celebrates South Asian Heritage Month 2026
- BIPA
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
At the British Indian Psychiatric Association (BIPA), we are proud to celebrate South Asian Heritage Month by honouring the rich tapestry of cultures, traditions, stories, and lived experiences that shape our community. As psychiatrists, we recognise that heritage is more than history, it is a source of identity, resilience, creativity, and connection.
This special collection brings together the voices and talents of our members through poetry, photography, artwork, and stories of contribution, celebrating the richness of South Asian heritage and the impact our members continue to make within psychiatry and the wider community.
Roots that Rise
Shikha Chauhan
From India's shores where dreams took flight,
We crossed the seas with hope so bright.
Our roots run deep, our spirits soar,
Two lands, one heart, forevermore.
With minds that heal and hearts that care,
We lift the weight too hard to bear.
We hear the silent, hidden cry,
And help lost hopes learn how to fly.
Our heritage is song and light,
Of courage born through darkest night.
Two cultures woven, hand in hand,
Together strong, together stand.
This month we honour those before,
Whose faith has opened every door.
With grateful hearts and voices clear,
We celebrate our heritage here.
SAHM Event Cardiff
Sunil Pulapaka
For the fifth consecutive year, I had the privilege of hosting South Asian Heritage Month (SAHM) celebrations on behalf of my charity, TMR. This year's theme, "Unity in Diversity," brought together participants from Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bhutan, Nepal, and India, celebrating the richness of our shared heritage.
The event was a wonderful opportunity to build friendships across cultures and communities. My message to everyone is simple: take a small step to learn about another culture—you'll discover how understanding and respect can break barriers, strengthen friendships, and create more cohesive communities.
Roots • Rhythm • Resilience: Stories Through the Lens
Vatsal Zapadia
Unity in diversity...?
Anaya and Santosh
Unity in diversity is what we bring...
You humans we see are the same and sing...
We are a chaotic, brilliant mosaic where all expressions belong.
Take A and I—we stand completely alone as single words,
Proud, solitary pillars of self and starting, making voices heard.
Yet pride has its limits; a world of just “I”s is an isolated place,
Without the others to frame us, we fall out of time and space.
Look to the beautiful dependence of Q, forever tethered to its guide,
Except when you say QUEUE...I am all meaningful just in there as I am alone...
Otherwise, practically mute and unfinished without U standing close by its side.
They are the ultimate partnership, proving there is nothing to hide
In needing someone else’s voice to help your own take stride.
We are I, N, and G—the engines of action, the breath of the now,
Linking arms to keep you in the present continuous, making things happen, taking a bow.
And I am E, ubiquitous, scattered like seeds across the page,
I sit silently at the end of words to give vowels the courage to change (turning hop to hope) and a smil into a smile...
I cannot be used enough! Yet, if I am typed all alone—E, E, E, E—
I am nothing but a stutter, a hollow noise devoid of poetry.
We find our strength in pairing up. T and H hold hands to form "The,"
The anchor of every sentence, the definite rock in a chaotic sea.
C and K often share the exact same sound, a beautiful friction,
Proving diversity means there’s more than one right way to speak with conviction.
I am S, the great multiplier—with one simple curve, I turn the single into the many.
M and W are mirrors, mountains and valleys, holding the shape of our breath.
Add O, the perfect open circle, and together we form the awe and the depth.
We bring the rhythm to the human tongue:
P, B, and D are the hard stops, the percussive beats that strike the drum,
While F and V bite the lower lip, letting the vibrations gently hum.
L and R roll and glide, the liquid rivers where stories are spun,
And J jumps right into the fray, a spark of joy when the work is done.
Then there is Y, the ultimate bridge, refusing a rigid identity—
Am I a consonant? Am I a vowel? I am both, embracing fluidity.
And what of the margins? We are X and Z, the exiles, the strange, the rare.
Less used, kept at the back of the throat, handled with deliberate care.
But without Z, there is no zenith, no zest to flavor the feast,
And without X, how would you mark the spot where the treasure is released?
We are twenty-six distinct shapes—sharp, curved, silent, and loud.
Some of us lead, some of us follow, some of us stand out in the crowd.
But isolate any one of us, and the meaning starts to fray,
For we are only a language when we let our differences play.
Separate, we are just strokes of ink, fragmented and unheard,
Unity in diversity is what we sing...
Diversity is the only (way for) unity, that's the thing...
The necessary human thing...
Photograph by Laxmi Anand
Al-Lateef: The Most Gentle by Huda Khan
