“Resilient.”
The word came without hesitation.
It was meant to answer a simple question: In one word, what does it mean to be an Indian woman in Australia today?
But as seven women of Indian origin gathered on Zoom just days before International Women’s Day, that one word began to stretch—to carry stories of migration, ambition, reinvention and quiet strength.
There were no speeches. No prepared talking points. Just women who showed up to talk about what they usually navigate alone.
- Rupali Ghaswala, a pharmacist turned clinical researcher who also runs a creative business.
- Neha Goel, a chartered accountant who found her calling in hypnotherapy and children’s wellbeing.
- Swetha Patil, a software engineer at NAB and mother of two daughters.
- Komal Ghai, who works in pharmaceutical trade and teaches yoga in her free time.
- Bharti Gupta, a physiotherapist who built a vegetarian catering business from scratch.
- Garima Mantry, a maths teacher with two decades in classrooms across India and Australia.
- And Chanchal Kumavat, founder of the Saathi Multicultural Association—known for building spaces where migrant women feel seen and supported.
Different professions. Different cities in India. Different stages of life.
But one shared experience: living between two worlds.
The weight of identity
When asked to describe being an Indian woman in Australia in a single word, the answers formed a mosaic.
“Resilient,” Komal said.
“Grounded,” Garima added. “Adaptable to home, to work.”
“Everyday growth,” Neha reflected. “Self-acceptance. Exploring new realms of our own self.”
Swetha offered something poetic: “You can redefine your duties as love, but not obligations.”
Chanchal had more to say. “Being an Indian woman in Australia today means carrying culture, breaking barriers, building community, and rising strong every day. We carry our culture, family values, and traditions from India. But here, we are also adopting, growing, creating our own identity in a multicultural society.”
Rupali summed it up simply: “The keep-going attitude of the Indian woman has no match.”
The dance between two selves
For many migrant women, identity is not fixed. It shifts depending on the room.
The question resonated deeply: does switching between an ‘Indian self’ at home and an ‘Australian self’ outside ever get easier?
“It’s really hard initially,” Bharti admitted. “For a few years, it takes time. But once you start learning things, you learn how to balance it. I’m just trying to blend between the two versions.”
Rupali agreed. “The initial few years were tough. We were all struggling, carrying our own baggage. But over time, you learn your tricks and tips. Now I don’t feel that massive difference. But I will say I feel home when I’m with our own community, with people who speak my language.”
Neha offered a different perspective. “We don’t switch personalities. We adapt. The values as an individual stay the same.”
Swetha saw it as exchange rather than division. “It’s about observing the Australian culture and adopting the right positives. Our Indian heritage is great, but there’s a lot to learn from Australian culture too.”
Komal, who has been in Australia for 19 years, reflected on change. “Gone are the days when all you’d hear people talk about was Indian food. Nowadays, we’ve integrated so well. People recognise Diwali, Holi, International Day of Yoga.”
And yet, small reminders of difference still surface.
“Maybe we don’t follow a particular Netflix series,” Komal laughed, “and then at work people are talking about it, and you feel a bit left out. But if I balance my body, my mind, my home, my work – I’m happy and content.”
Chanchal offered the quiet wisdom of experience: “The key is to embrace both sides as part of who you are, rather than trying to fit completely into just one.”
Redefining success
In many Indian families, success has a familiar shape: stable job, good marriage, financial security. In Australia, success often leans toward independence and passion.
How should the next generation define it?
Komal turned to philosophy. “Success is not attaining something. It’s Santosha—contentment with what you have.”
Neha spoke of purpose. “Every soul has a unique purpose. Success cannot be defined in one fixed way. For the next generation, I would redefine success as alignment with purpose—not just ticking society’s boxes.”
Rupali’s answer was personal. “I feel successful by comparing myself to who I was a few years ago. Don’t compare yourself with anybody else. The time we stop comparing ourselves with others, we’re already halfway there.”
Garima highlighted something many women struggle with: guilt. “Being able to make your own decisions. Taking time for yourself without feeling guilty. Thinking about ourselves is also giving to the family.”
Bharti kept it simple. “Success is not perfection. It’s regular growth. It means having peace at night when you sleep.”
Then Chanchal shifted the tone.“Independent doesn’t just mean working and earning. It means if everyone has left you, you can survive.”
Financial independence, she insisted, is survival.
The quiet power
When asked about empowerment, the answers were deeply personal.
For Bharti and Rupali, power lies in listening. “Even a child can teach you so much,” Rupali said.
For Garima, it is in the classroom. “When a child is doubting themselves and you can instil that confidence and that gives me the power to feel I can change someone’s life.”
Neha shared her turning point. “I was earning, I was independent, but inner peace was missing. I was not aligned with my passion.” Reducing her work hours to pursue healing changed her life.
Komal’s empowerment was born from loss. After a childhood friend took her own life, she chose a path of service. “I decided then I don’t want any other woman to take such a step.”
Chanchal spoke of starting over in Australia despite her accomplishments in India. “Australia gives everyone the same opportunity to start fresh.” Helping other migrant women is where she feels most powerful.
By the end of the conversation, the theme was clear. Each woman had navigated expectation. Each had questioned belonging. Each had quietly carved out her own definition of success.
Between two worlds, they were not divided. They were expanded.
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