Tag Archives: Indian

VOD: Aziz Ansari Has the Perfect Holiday Gift For You Featuring Deepak Chopra

In a recent appearance on Conan comedian Aziz Ansari unveiled a rather unconventional holiday gift. If you’re in need of a sari – a traditional garment worn by Indian women that is also popular in many other south eastern Asian countries – he’s got quite the solution for you. Since “sari” makes up over half of his last name, and Aziz is Indian-American he’s advertising his own special take on the gown. Now you can get a sari with Aziz’s face on it! Aziz takes us (jokingly) through the process of making his specially branded saris. Our favorite part is when they use glue to smack his face on the “fine material.”

Better yet, Deepak Chopra makes an appearance to condemn the process (whoever said Deepak doesn’t have a humorous side hasn’t been paying attention). Unfortunately, even Aziz can’t put up with the ridiculousness of it. Oh well, you can still get the Gene Hackman home gene testing kit for all of your celebrity branded gift needs!

What do you think of the video? Tell us in the comments below! 

Deepak and Sanjiv Chopra Discuss the Meaning of Brotherhood

In Brotherhood, a new memoir by brothers Deepak and Sanjiv Chopra, the two reveal the story of their personal struggles and triumphs as doctors, immigrants, and siblings. In this first installment, the brothers discuss the nurturing side of India, the importance of family in their lives, and what brotherhood means to them.

Stay tuned for more upcoming discussions between Deepak and Sanjiv Chopra on the meaning of brotherhood and life in the Chopra family.

Subscribe to The Chopra Well and order your copy of Brotherhood today!

Deepak Chopra: “Immigration Is Us,” an American Story (Part 2)

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Click here to read part 1. 

By Deepak Chopra and Sanjiv Chopra

Psychological survival meant relying on the time-honored mechanism of the immigrant community. Ours was peculiarly select. It consisted of poor Indian doctors living in the largely black neighborhoods of Jamaica Plain in Boston, where rows of cheap apartments served as the temporary shtetl (the term “Indian diaspora” came into being, although this appropriation isn’t something to be proud of – Indian emigration is voluntary, not forced, and unlike the Jews, we’ve always had a homeland).

It took a decade or so for the shtetl to move to the suburbs. Jamaica Plain was all about curry, beat-up VW beetles, and lonely wives whose husbands slept at the hospital. With prosperity came backyard barbecues, Scotch whiskey, and husbands bragging about their first Cadillac. Willed amnesia became fun. We were fortunate. Our choice to assimilate wasn’t made under hostile scrutiny, unlike the fate of today’s poor Mexican-Americans or religiously conservative Muslims.

A combination of anxiety and ambition drove the founders of the major Hollywood studios. Five studios were founded by Polish Jews born within the Czar’s pale of settlement. These early moguls did everything they could to disguise their origins – sometimes their own children weren’t told – but familiar scenes in Hollywood movies were linked to ancestral memories: the bad guys riding into a Western town at night to burn it to the ground echoed mounted Cossacks burning down Jewish villages during a pogrom.

The darkest suspicion that can be aimed at immigrants is doubt over their desire to become “us,” because remaining “them” is always a threat. After 9/11, many observers were astonished that the band of terrorists who crashed the planes weren’t seduced by their stay in America. Embedded for months in Florida, Las Vegas, and elsewhere, the terrorists partook of American luxuries, but they hadn’t been seduced. Their hatred only deepened. Now there seems to be a pervasive feeling that other immigrants might follow the same path.

Sikhs wearing their traditional turbans look like Muslims to many Americans and suffered for it in the aftermath of 9/11. A harsher spotlight shines on immigrant Muslims who want to retain not just their clothing but their own private schools, the madrassas where strong emphasis is placed on the Koran. In essence their desire to retain a strong religious identity and aloofness from American culture is the same as that of ultra-orthodox Jewish groups and Hasids. The political difference, however, couldn’t be greater. (The Muslim connection to the two Chechen brothers behind the Boston Marathon bombings will probably add to the general suspicion, even if overt Islamophobia remains confined to the harsher corners of the blogosphere.) Historically a stigma was attached by turns to the Irish, Italians, and poor Russian Jews as their waves of settlement arrived. “Anarchists” and “Reds” were secretly infiltrating and subverting American society a hundred years ago when imaginations were as inflamed as they are against Muslims today.

Only now a tipping point has been reached, the so-called demographic time bomb.  The influx of illegal immigrants, combined with higher birth rates compared to the white population and a preponderance of young people, has skewed immigrants as never before. As of 2010, the Census Bureau reports that 12.9% of the population is foreign born. The last Presidential election exhibited how strongly this growing cohort has skewed toward the Democratic Party, creating anxiety and soul-searching among the Republicans. Young voters tend to become imprinted with the political party they first vote for. Among the so-called millennial generation, the skew to the Democrats is strong in general but overwhelming when it comes to Asian-Americans, for example.

The children of the foreign-born are succeeding in their aspirations. According to a 2013 Pew Research study that profiled the 20 million children of immigrants who have now reached adulthood, they are outpacing their parents in college degrees, household income, and home ownership. The generation of Indians that we represent quickly shed the anxiety of assimilation – at least we thought so – but this new generation’s anxiety is about being too successful at the game. Some universities are having to confront suspicions about an Asian quota (heatedly discussed in a recent Times discussion). Such a quota probably doesn’t exist. The most prestigious colleges have embraced an influx of Asian students. CalTech is typical, reporting that their freshman class in 2008 – last summer’s graduates – was 40% Asian, compared with a total U.S population that is only 4% Asian. The number has only increased, so that the brilliant home-schooled Asian kid has even become a stereotype.

Are “they” taking over, or will this new slice of “us” be the most useful immigrants ever, taking care of an aging population, doing the menial jobs that no one else wants, competing in technology with China, lowering the age of our workforce compared with Europe, Russia, and Japan, and in the end swinging national politics leftward in the direction of social justice? We can only surmise. But it was poignant to attend a recent charity event where young Indian-Americans were asked to help the poor in India. They gave lavishly, with tears in their eyes, and more than one said, “I never had any idea that things were like that over there.” Our amnesia has become theirs, except that they have nothing to forget.

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Borotherhood cover1Deepak Chopra, MD, FACP, is the author of more than 70 books with twenty-one New York Times Bestsellers in both fiction and non-fiction. Chopra is the Founder of The Chopra Foundation, co-author with Sanjiv Chopra, Brotherhood: Dharma, Destiny and the American Dream

Sanjiv Chopra, MD, MACP is professor of medicine and faculty dean for Continuing Education at Harvard Medical School, and author of  seven books including, Leadership by Example: The Ten Key Principles of All Great Leaders.


Follow Deepak on Twitter

Deepak Chopra: “Immigration Is Us,” an American Story (Part 1)

Lady Liberty By Deepak Chopra and Sanjiv Chopra

When you hear the word immigrant, what conjures up in your mind? Is it illegal vs. legal immigrants, contentious debates over immigration reform, or the Arizona lawman, Joe Arpaio, who styles himself as “America’s toughest Sheriff?” Chances are that most people are not aware of the fact that nearly one of every four Americans – 70 million – is an immigrant or the child of parents who came from abroad.

Immigrants come to America for a number of reasons: To escape persecution, to get post-graduate training, to enter the work force and have a better future for themselves and their children. Immigrants have made seminal contributions in academia, business, entrepreneurship, innovation, and in groundbreaking scientific discoveries. In 1906, 30% of all U.S. Nobel laureates were foreign born. The percentage has been as high as 39% in the 1950’s.

America is an immigrant country, but the American identity isn’t an immigrant identity. These two ideas contradict each other. Many of the thorny issues involved in immigration reform get stuck because of that. One kind of immigration (arriving long ago) makes you more American than the other kind of immigration (arriving recently). There is social pressure to forget your old identity and assimilate quickly, yet even if you succeed at this, forced amnesia has its price in loneliness and anxiety over belonging to no country at all.

As first generation immigrants, we have gone through the process of willed amnesia. We were lucky to arrive in the ’70s, when the Vietnam War caused a doctor shortage. We had medical degrees in hand, and there was a community of Indian doctors in Boston that we fit into while making the transition to “real” Americans. So it’s troubling that the country seems to be more hostile and suspicious toward immigrants of every sort, including those who earn university degrees here but are not allowed to get work without returning to their home countries first.

After 9/11, and with the dramatic rise in illegal workers from Mexico, the case for immigrants feels like guilty until proven innocent. One’s heart sank when the two Boston bombers turned out to fit the stereotype of angry Muslim males who hated the country that had given them asylum. One’s heart rose when the New York Times reports on a study showing that the health costs for illegal immigrants is less than the cost of caring for a native-born person. (Of course, giving medical care to undocumented immigrants is largely a subsidized venture and a burden on the whole healthcare system – no one can deny that.)

But, then, prejudices about the undocumented as freeloaders aren’t going to change simply by airing the facts. Guilty until proven innocent holds too much sway even if you arrived legally. To be really successful at turning into an amnesiac, the best tactic is to be born the child of immigrants. Your parents will have worked so hard to disguise their foreign roots that you have a good chance of not knowing they exist.

Assimilation is ambivalent, a happy/sad, win/lose affair. It could hardly be otherwise. At the present moment, during one of America’s periodic waves of hostility toward immigrants, we are suspect outsiders. The animus of toxic nativism is doubly ironic. Those casting suspicion must first forget that they themselves came from immigrant stock, while the accused must work as hard as possible to agree with their accusers that forgetting where you came from, as fast as possible, is your only defense.

Community hospitals were anxious about staffing, and so an active outreach began – foreign doctors were made to feel desirable. Not that India wanted us to go. Deepak had to travel to Sri Lanka and Sanjiv to Hong Kong to take the necessary qualifying test to come to the U.S. since India had banned it. We were allowed to take only a few hundred dollars in currency with us. When we arrived here, the jobs existed, as promised, but the welcome was more a push/pull. American-born doctors were suspicious of anyone with foreign training. Deepak’s first appearance in print was a letter to the Boston Globe protesting a prejudice against Indian physicians that became stronger in the ’80s once Vietnam was over and the doctor shortage a thing of the past.

Stay tuned for part 2!

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Borotherhood cover1Deepak Chopra, MD, FACP, is the author of more than 70 books with twenty-one New York Times Bestsellers in both fiction and non-fiction. Chopra is the Founder of The Chopra Foundation, co-author with Sanjiv Chopra, Brotherhood: Dharma, Destiny and the American Dream

Sanjiv Chopra, MD, MACP is professor of medicine and faculty dean for Continuing Education at Harvard Medical School, and author of  seven books including, Leadership by Example: The Ten Key Principles of All Great Leaders.


Follow Deepak on Twitter

Shameless Dancing on Margaret Thatcher’s Grave


The news of Margaret Thatcher’s death has been surprisingly sobering to me. It brought on a quiet mood from me. I hadn’t ever answered the questions I’d been asking myself about her. And now she’s gone. What do I feel about that?

I think of where I grew up in the 80’s –  in a mining community in West Lothian, where the miner’s strike ravaged my classmates lives, and I would go home and listen to adults talk about what was happening. My dad was the village doctor. Many of the little ones in my class had a father who worked in the coal pits. Some had mums who worked in the school kitchen as dinner ladies. Many had mums and dads who were unemployed. Nearly everyone at school had meal tickets. There was milk at breaks when I was really little – but then that stopped, for me when I was…still really little.

In the 1980’s, it wasn’t an easy childhood for any of us. Falla Hill Primary in Fauldhouse was not far from Whitburn and the largest coal pit in the region, Polkemmet. The rural mining community was devastated by the 1984-1985 miners strike. I remember all of it so vaguely and yet so clearly: I remember sadness clearly – sadness amongst my friends, kids whose family lives were unraveling. I remember anger clearly too – anger from parents, who seemed to me to have nothing and to be lost, and who would often vent their frustration in front of their children. But really I think my 10-year-old brain only vaguely understood what exactly was happening.

My classmates would go on to either Whitburn or Bathgage Academy (secondary school) in one of those two towns – although whether they’d stay until 1990 to take their prerequisites for a college education was really never quite certain to me. I remember a lot of the older brothers and sisters of my classmates talking about something called the YTS, which meant they could go straight to work, earning a wage, learning new skills.

As well as this culture of economic deprivation and undervaluing education, there was a culture of sectarian prejudice that was ingrained into all youngsters: Falla Hill was a protestant school, and St. John’s was a Catholic school and there would be regular (who arranged these?) fights between the two. I think back on it now with shock. Children – we were all children. And yet every few weeks (or so it seemed to me) there would be a coordinated rendezvous attended by 8-year-olds upwards to kick the s*** out of each other in the name of God? Or perhaps it was in the name of Jesus? I never knew or saw directly because I would never ever go. I couldn’t stand to think of it, and my Indian-ness saved any expectation that I should ever even observe such a meeting.

But not going to the scheduled fights didn’t make me immune to violence from strangers. I remember walking home from school, and a small boy, the same age as me (8-10) with red hair. I forget his name but we knew one another. He was not from my school. He was from the Catholic St. John’s. He would see me and his face would contort bitterly. I quickly learned it wasn’t because I was Protestant by association of my place of education. It was because my skin was brown.

He would take his bag – that I remember being something of a satchel – and swing it in the air above his head, like a heavy thick weighted lasso. He’d come towards me and he’d swing it at me. It would hit my head on my temples, and I’d fall to the ground. He would say ‘You wee Paki’ and sometimes spit. ‘Paki’ was the racist equivalent in the 80’s of the “n word” – applied to those of us who might have roots in India or Pakistan or Sri Lanka. I remember being dazed. Completely dazed. And too shocked to speak. I remember sometimes I’d try to scream but no sound would come out of my mouth: I’d be lying there with my mouth trying to make noises that wouldn’t come out.

Yes, people did see it happen. But they didn’t bother much. Racism was part of my 1980’s childhood in that mining community. It was hard to go to the shop without being called a wog, or a paki or without some things that you thought were cat calls but would actually be calls from local boys for the National Front to send you ‘home’.

Maybe for these reasons my parents had decided that I wouldn’t complete my education in the mining village. Instead I went off to an all girls school in Edinburgh where I clearly remember being 16-years-old and our teachers interrupting English class to watch the live footage of Mrs. Thatcher resigning. She was crying as she sat in the limo, looking out at her life as she knew it ending. So unceremoniously. So indignantly. Not toppled by Labour or the Unions, but by her own party. She looked vulnerable in that moment. The first time I think anyone had ever seen that in her. But she would not receive any support or sympathy: not from her opponents in the other parties, and especially not from her enemies from within her own party. Wow – I remember thinking. God, they look like hyenas. And, really, you did this. You created a monster.

A year or so later I went to Somerville College, at the University of Oxford to read English Language and Literature. This, I knew, was where Margaret Thatcher had also been an undergraduate. I used to think about that a lot when I would sit in the college library for hours, long nights – sometimes until dawn (although you weren’t meant t0 be there that late back then), trying to write, but actually preferring to read, or sleep, or just be silent in amongst the books.

I would look around me, soaking in the beautiful silence of this library and look out over the Oxford skies, and in summer see the greeness of the quad; and I’d think –  how can this place have formed a leader who created a national culture of  division and the experience of poverty and visceral hate? When did she decide it would be perfectly okay to be so hard-hearted? How did this happen?

In my own short childhood, lived out in the environment that she created for me, I had witnessed deprivation, sadness, and anger; and had directly experienced violence and hate targeted specifically at me.  I carried on wondering about Margaret Thatcher when I was at university. I was there 48 years after she left, and one year after she’d been deposed from her party; but actually she was there the whole time. With typical narcissism I took the 80’s personally. Did she mean to hurt me like that? She really didn’t care that it had been so divisive and degrading and hurtful? Or could it be, as some historians were beginning to say, that she was a woman who was brave enough to give our country a bad, bad medicine that it desperately needed to be saved from its 70’s disease? That we will never thank her for it, but generations to come will?

Of course I never really worked it out. I could never answer the questions. I could never feel good with how it felt. It’s true that the UK was in a mess. And it’s true that she was an incredibly intelligent woman. Beyond that – what? What else can we know. She thought she was helping us, of that I’m sure. It hurt dreadfully. Of that I am certain.

The nice thing, as the years have gone on, though, is that I have forgotten about her mostly. Those days are over. The 80’s for me now are represented only by the collection of pop that I would drown my ten year old self in as I roller-skated around my garden (too scared to go outside the grounds), safe in not being able to hear anything they might call me: Fiction Factory, Giorgio Moroder, Cyndi Lauper,  Julian Cope and Paul Young and Wham!

web-brixton-gettySo news of her death Monday morning unearthed in me some deeply sobering memories. Visceral memories of childhood confusion, suffering, loss, conflict, divisiveness and violence. Wow, I forgot about all that.

But as those sobering memories surfaced, so too did news of something else that I found somehow equally viscerally sad. Street parties to celebrate her death. Jeering songs without any kindness. It made me feel sick and my stomach knotted the way it did when those boys would call out National Front slogans and tell my 10-year-old self to ‘go home’.

Dancing on someone else’s grave is as far away from social justice as it gets to me. It’s not the way for a living, breathing, connected society based on compassion, civility and justice. To me it’s the way of a people who are still wounded and made crazy with pain. If this is healthy then tell me, when will we stop dancing? What about when Blair dies? Bush (senior)? Bush (junior)? Should we just keep dancing at the news of these deaths? Yes – this is what Margaret Thatcher’s legacy taught us: divisiveness, cruelty, heartlessness. She gave us the experience of being humiliated and dehumanized and now, wherever there are people dancing, it seems to me they are reinforcing every negative experience I had to grow up with in the 80’s: humiliation, dehumanization, and refusal to acknowledge another human being’s innate right to be deeply respected and valued regardless of their politics, race, or class.

As long as we’re able to forget and respect the precious value of each and every human life, we’re dancing in the dark. Margaret Thatcher, the leader who hurt us, is not dead. She lives on in anyone who is moved to publicly celebrate a woman’s death when her family is mourning. As if they truly are Thatcher’s children, they doing what she taught them best – confusing callousness for power and wearing their heartlessness on their sleeve.

The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen.

Mallika Chopra: Birth Order, Identity and Raising Multicultural Kids

By Mallika Chopra

My husband and I are both first-borns. We expect that we get what we want in our families, even in our lives.

I don’t think we realized how ingrained this was for both of us until a few years ago when we were deciding where to go for dinner. We were with my younger brother, Gotham, his wife, Candice (who is a younger sibling), and Sumant’s younger brother, Hemant. Sumant and I told everyone that we would be going to one of our favorite Italian restaurants in Santa Monica. I can’t remember who, but one of the younger siblings tentatively made a suggestion that we try something else. Sumant and I both looked at them confused. We were going to go to the restaurant we had chosen.

Even though we were all in our 30’s at this point, we assumed that everyone did what we wanted. This episode opened up a conversation at dinner where our younger siblings shared a bit of their resentment about us assuming they would always have to follow us. Sumant and I were completely surprised – we had never even though about this before. (And note for dinner, we tried one of their suggestions. Admittedly, it was good food and fun.)

How we form our identities is such a complex web of the family we were born into, birth order, parental figures, where we live, socioeconomic and racial factors, etc. There are too many to think about actually. I know that as a girl, I had a very different experience from my brother, Gotham, growing up as a child of “Deepak Chopra.” Gotham explored father/son relationships in his documentary, Decoding Deepak, and I realized my experience was so different from his.

As a parent, however, I want to make sure I am nurturing my two daughters’ identities fully. I realize from the beginning I have thought of my two girls differently – I feel Tara, my elder daughter, is my best friend, and Leela is my baby. Is it fair to them
to even make that distinction? I know I treat them very differently, putting more pressure on Tara and letting Leela get away with a lot more.

I am also very aware of my daughters’ identity as Americans and Indians. I was taught from my parents (who were young immigrants in the US) not to assimilate to American culture, rather to be proud of our culture and heritage. While my friends played soccer on Saturday mornings, I did classical Indian dance. While kids in school did etiquette classes, we spent time with our Indian community.

My husband and I put a lot of effort in making sure our girls are connected to family and our Indian culture, but we also want our girls to feel like they belong to their local community. (They’ve play Saturday morning soccer, but I didn’t force either etiquette classes or Indian dance on them!) While I grew up in a town in Boston that had a total of five Asian families (I think), my girls are growing up in a much more multicultural, global world. Perhaps they won’t face the same exclusion I did from  mainstream American culture while I was growing up. Am I burdening them with my own issues in shaping their sense of identity?

Meditation was an important part of giving me confidence when I was young to feel secure in my identity. It gave me the experience of going beyond the labels and insecurities about questioning who I was to feeling a sense of boundlessness, creativity, silence, and expansiveness. As a child, meditating with my parents gave me security and a sense of connection to them. I now try to do the same with my kids – both learned simple techniques when they were five-years-old, and I encourage them to join me for meditation.

In this episode of “Perfectly Imperfect Parents” on The Chopra Well, Dr. Cara Natterson, Dani Modisett and I share some of our thoughts and our own experiences grappling with identity for ourselves and our kids. I really loved watching this one and hope you do too. Most importantly, I would love your thoughts in the comments here or on the video, as this is such an interesting topic for me!

Subscribe to The Chopra Well for more conscious parenting tips every Thursday!


Related Articles:

Decoding Deepak: Q&A with Gotham Chopra

Why Kids (and Parents!) Need to Do Community Service

How to Teach Our Kids About the Perils of Lying

Should Parents Allow Their Kids on Social Media?

The happy Mind

The rishis of ancient India were devoted to the path of spiritual progress. Often a formidable obstacle to spiritual progress came as the mind itself which naturally clings to woldly objects even by imaginations.

There was an attempt to understand and tame the wild wandering mind through meditation, devotion and other means.The following article and analysis is based on my understanding of one such text which is fortunately still available to the modern readers(Panchadashi).

– The qualities of the entity which is permanent and real (brahman) are existence , conciousness and bliss.

– This brahman is also present inside every human being (as the self). it is because of the presence of this brahman , that we experience our existence , conciousness and happiness(bliss) .

– The human mind is but a reflection of the real self and thus exhibits these three qualities just like a clean pond reflects the image of the sun.

– when the mind is ‘dull’, only existence is experienced, if it is ‘agitated’ , consciousness is also expeieced along with existence , but  existence,conciousness and bliss are experienced only in the ‘serene’ state.

Thus we see(and experience) that when the mind is dull or agitated , a person does not feel happy and we geneally say that something is wrong or he/she is under stress/depressed. If such state persists , a physician may also have to be consulted.

It is every person’s desire and need to be happy. A simple(but easier said than done) method would be to try and keep the mind ‘serene’ as much as possible and experience the bliss.



Surajkund Crafts Mela 2010

When it comes to arts & crafts, India has always captured the world’s imagination. We owe our global reputation to our rich heritage – one that´s lived on in our villages for centuries.India has many cultural events that set the stage for traditional artists to showcase their creations. The most vibrant of them all is the Surajkund Handicrafts Mela.The Surajkund Mela was orgaised to promote the culture and traditions of Haryana. The first Mela was put together by the Haryana Government in 1981. Artisans from all over the state came together for the first time ever. Ideas were exchanged, and a thriving art culture was born. Year after year, people took notice and the Mela spread its wings further. Today, it is one of the biggest art events in India. Skilled artisans now converge, not just from around India, but neighbouring countries as well.

Surajkund becomes alive with the rhythm and beats of folk dances and riot of colors. Rajasthan– The magic of vibrant Rajasthan is the theme state  for this year Mela.Surajkund is the annual fair that showcases the finest handlooms, handicrafts, authentic fragrances & flavours of rich Indian cuisines. As winter turns briefly into spring, a caravan of 400 National and State awardee craftpersons from every corner of India wind their way to Surajkund. This year craftpersons from SAARC Nations are participating in the Surajkund Crafts Mela. At Surajkund Mela, the artisans’ delicate hands create the most beautiful pieces which have fascinated many through ages !24th Surajkund Crafts Mela offers a lot of Fun, Frolic,Entertainment and exclusive shopping. In the rural ambience, 400 craftperson will display and Demonstrate their finest crafts work that is set to capture your hearts. The authentic fragrances & flavours of rich Indian cuisines will kindle your taste buds. Tap your feet with the beats of enthralling folk dancers from the various parts of the country.

Welcome to Surajkund Mela 2010
The Surajkund Fair is going to be held from 1st to 15th February 2010. Artisans, craftsmen and performers will be arriving at this cultural hotspot to showcase their talents. Whether it´s from across the
country or beyond. Step in to find a wealth of exquisite handicraft items including paintings, jewelry, showpieces, upholstery, furniture and more.  You´ll also find mehendi design artists, musicians, dancers, painters, weavers, sculptures, craftsmen from all around. The idea is to exhibit the splendid variety of Indian culture.

Craft exhibitions

 Chikri woodcraft of Kashmir

 Lace and crochet items of Goa

 Banjara and Bunni embroidery of Gujarat

 Sandalwood and rosewood carving handicrafts of South India

 Kantha work of West Bengal and North–East India

 Chikan work of Lucknow

The Surajkund Food Festival
 No Indian celebration is complete without Indian spices. Savour traditional recipes from all over the country, on a platter!While you shop, soak in the aroma of delicious cuisines being prepared at the many stalls. Savour delicacies from around the country.

A fair to cherish and remember…..


  1. The Craftspersons from all over India, SAARC and other neighbouring countries would be selling the best of Handlooms and Handicrafts items.

 2. The State of Rajasthan is the Theme State of the Mela Rajasthan known for its Fort Places, Textiles,Handicrafts,Cuisines and Fairand Festivals. Replica of Choki-Dhani can be seen at Haveli in Mela Ground.

 3. Tajikistan,Egypt and Thailand are the three Partner Countries. They will bring their craftsmen,cultural teams and cuisines.

 4. Best of Cultural programmes organized jointly by Ministry of Culture,ICCR,New Delhi, Theme State Rajasthan and Cultural Affairs Department, Haryana & Haryana Kala Parishad.

 5. Exporters meet and Buyers meet to be held at Surajkund Design Galleries with assistance of the DC Handlooms and DC Handicrafts.

 6. Food Court with variety of Indian, Thau & Egyptain Food.

 7. Amusement Zone with playful rides and swings.

 8. Folk Dances by Schools/Colleges at Chaupal daily from 11 a.m. onwards

9. Participate in special games and in competitions like Rangoli (2nd Feb.), Face painting(3rd Feb.), Essay Writing (4th Feb.) , Mehandi (5th Feb.) drawing (9th feb.), kite Flying for adults (10th Feb.) and Photography for amateurs only(11th Feb.)

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