Suva, Fiji
Five years ago, when I first landed in Fiji with two suitcases and a hesitant heart, I had no idea that this island paradise would become home. Back then, I was chasing a career opportunity that promised adventure and growth, but deep down, I worried about leaving behind everything familiar — the chaos of Mumbai, the smell of masala chai, and the comforting hum of Hindi conversations on every street corner.
Fiji wasn’t unfamiliar in theory. My parents often spoke about our shared Indo-Fijian roots, and I’d read about the Girmitiyas — Indian labourers who arrived here in the 19th century, bringing with them their food, traditions, and language. But reading history and living history are entirely different things.
Discovering My Island Family
It didn’t take long for the Indian community in Fiji to find me — or maybe I found them. One of my first invitations came from a neighbour, Ramesh uncle, who knocked on my door with a plate of freshly fried pakoras. “You’re new here, beta,” he said. “Come to our temple this Sunday. You’ll feel less alone.”
That Sunday changed everything. Walking into the small but vibrant temple, hearing the familiar chants of the aarti, and sharing prasad with strangers who quickly became family reminded me of how resilient our Indian roots are. From the elderly women gossiping in Hindi to young boys playing dholaks, I realised that while I had left India, a part of India had never left me.
The Indo-Fijian community embraced me with open arms. They taught me how to make perfect roti on a Fijian stove and invited me to endless Diwali and Holi celebrations. It was as if I had been grafted into this centuries-old tree of culture that thrived in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Sri Siva Subramaniya Swami Temple
Falling for Fijian Culture and Food
And then there’s the island itself. Fiji’s beauty is almost surreal. Picture turquoise waters that stretch endlessly, golden sands soft enough to sleep on, and green mountains that feel like something out of a fairytale. But for me, it’s the people who make it magical.
Fijians, with their warm “Bula!” greetings and genuine smiles, have taught me so much about hospitality. The blend of Indian and Fijian cultures is fascinating. At weddings, it’s not uncommon to see a bride in a red lehenga dancing to traditional meke music, or feasts that include chicken curry alongside kokoda, a Fijian dish made with raw fish marinated in coconut milk and lime.
Food, in particular, has been a revelation. The Indian influence here is strong—spicy curries, biryanis, and samosas are island staples. But I’ve fallen in love with Fijian flavours, too. The first time I tried lovo — a traditional underground cooking technique — I was hooked. The smokiness of the vegetables and meats wrapped in banana leaves reminded me of something ancient and primal, yet comforting.
A Bowl of Kokoda
Living Between Two Worlds
The most surprising thing about my life in Fiji is how it’s allowed me to embrace both my Indian and Fijian identities without feeling torn. In the mornings, I sip on masala chai while watching the sunrise over the Pacific. In the evenings, I play rugby with Fijian friends, laughing as they teach me to be less awkward on the field.
Back in India, life was fast, loud, and unrelenting. Here, it’s slower, softer, and centered on relationships. Yet, I’ve found that the values remain the same: respect for elders, love for family, and an almost spiritual connection to food and celebration.
When I miss home, I cook dal and rice while listening to Bollywood classics, and when I’m celebrating my Fijian home, I invite friends over for a potluck where masala meets seafood. It’s a balancing act, but one I’ve come to cherish.
A New Kind of Belonging
Five years in, I often get asked: “Do you miss India?” The truth is, I do. But I also don’t. Because here, in Fiji, I’ve found pieces of India scattered across the island—from the aroma of curries wafting through the streets to the lilting Hindi-Fijian accents of the locals.
But I’ve also found something more — a deeper sense of belonging that transcends geography. When I sit by the ocean, listening to the waves and watching the stars, I feel connected to something vast and timeless.
Fiji isn’t just where I live now. It’s where I’ve grown, loved, and found a new version of myself. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.
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