My name is Swasti Bolay Bheekha. I am settled in Switzerland, but my story begins in Riv des Anguilles / Savannes, Mauritius, where I was born into a large family.
My father had five brothers, and together with their children, we grew up surrounded by a big, close-knit family. My Grand Uncle (Chacha), whom we lovingly called Barka Pitaji, was a well-known Pandit in the South of Mauritius. He played a major role in keeping our traditions alive.
Every evening, we would do Sandhya at home, and he would teach us about our culture and sanskar. No Hawan ceremony, wedding, or festival ended without soulful bhajans and his heartfelt advice on how to preserve and respect our heritage. I learned a lot from him.
My Mataji has also been deeply rooted in devotion. She has been an active member of the Mahila Samaj for many years. Even when we moved from the South to Port-Louis (Ste Croix), where the majority of the community is Christian, my Mataji and some ladies founded a Mahila Samaj, where every Sunday there were Hawans and bhajans. During weekdays, there were Bhaitka sessions for children between 5 and 12 years old.
Wherever she went, Mataji always carried her Hawan book and Bhajan book, saying they protected her in every situation. Even though we were very poor, she instilled in us two great values: love and forgiveness.
I have been living in Switzerland since 1984. The culture here is very different from Mauritius. Still, whenever I visit Mauritius, I make it a point to perform a Hawan, which keeps me strongly connected to my roots.
For a long time, I was content with this connection and never felt the need to search for my ancestral land. When asked where I was from, I would simply say, “I am Mauritian, Indian.”
But last year, something stirred within me. A feeling grew stronger: “Where exactly did I come from? Who were my grandparents? Where is my ancestors’ motherland?”
Whenever people asked me where in India I was from, my answer was always “I don’t know.” That no longer felt right. I decided to find out.
Through a distant relative living in Italy, I learned more about our family history and our ancestors. His research inspired me to go deeper.
In November 2018, I visited India for the first time, not in search of my ancestors, but for business. On the very first day, I met someone who shared with me the incredible yet painful history of our ancestors’ immigration to Mauritius. This ignited my curiosity.
By March 2019, I returned to India, this time with the clear purpose of finding my ancestral homeland. Together with an Indian friend, I began the investigation—visiting multiple villages and government offices. Though the boundaries and districts had changed over the years, the help and support we received everywhere was heartwarming.
People were curious, welcoming, and deeply touched that even after so many years, the descendants of Girmityas still cherish their culture and language. Many were surprised to learn that in different corners of the world, descendants of India still celebrate Hindu festivals, speak Hindi, and build little “Indias” with mandirs in their new homelands.
I was blessed to visit the Calcutta Port (now highly restricted), where thousands of our ancestors once began their difficult journey overseas. Standing there, I could feel the emotions of those who left everything behind to embark on an uncertain voyage for the sake of their families.
Finally, my search led me to Dehowa village in the district of Balia.
We were warmly welcomed by the head teacher, Mr. Raksh Singh, who introduced us to his father and many elders of the village. Their memory of history, knowledge of the community, and hospitality left me deeply impressed. Everywhere we went, people welcomed us with chai and open hearts.
Being in my ancestors’ village was a profoundly emotional experience. For the first time, I truly felt the sense of belonging—the connection with my motherland.
I never once felt like a stranger in India. People told me, “You belong to India,” and I could feel it in my heart: Yes, I am from here.
I returned to Switzerland with immense gratitude and a promise—to come back again with my family and introduce them to our ancestral village and the wonderful people who welcomed me.
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who helped me in my journey to discover my ancestors’ bhoomi. I am forever grateful.
Long live India. Long live the spirit of Indians.
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