By Kirtana Devaraj
Geographers define a village as a small settlement usually found in a rural setting. It is a dynamic and nurturing ecosystem that is built on the foundation of a sense of community. The workings of a village are often rooted in trust, reciprocity and contribution. At its core, a village fosters belonging and resilience through a collective commitment to uplift each other.
I moved away from home when I was 17 to the University of Toronto in Canada to pursue my undergraduate studies. The transition was both exciting and daunting, and in those first few weeks, I felt incredibly homesick. I began to realize that friends from school were just that — people you hung out with at school (or occasionally outside of school) — but you always had a home to come back at the end of the day.
As an international student in a country around 13,000 km away from my parents, I knew I had to find a family and the cliché but very real “home away from home.” I was lucky enough to have the best roommate I could have asked for, as well as friends in my program who stuck with me through undergrad and beyond. In those first few challenging weeks, these people helped me overcome the homesickness and became a part of my village. Adversity bonds you in ways one can never imagine. This part of my village stayed by me through it all — academic difficulties, a culture shock, the job search. They were my soft place to land.
In 2024, when I started applying for PhD programs, I experienced one of the most stressful times of my life. My self-imposed expectations and the pressure to continue performing well academically were sometimes overwhelming. But, my village in Toronto stayed by me, bringing me desserts when I was stressed (I have an insatiable sweet tooth after all!) and just giving me a space to rant when I needed it. My family supported me virtually, and my research advisors proof-read my applications multiple times. Through all their support, I was exceptionally fortunate to be accepted to Cornell University’s PhD in Biomedical Engineering program in the United States. At that moment, it felt like life came full circle. Everything I had worked for the past few years was coming to fruition. Though even at that moment, I acknowledged that half of the credit went to my village.
I joined the Cornell community in August of 2024 and was immediately struck by the culture shock. Perhaps I had flippantly assumed that being familiar with Canada would prepare me for life in the United States. Though I formed some close friendships, they couldn’t compare to the tight-knit community I had in Canada. Around this time, my grandmother passed away, and I was unable to travel to India for her final rites. Being away from my family during trying times was emotionally challenging. But I had my village in Canada to support me virtually and my friends in the United States became a shoulder to cry on.
At the start of 2025, I started experiencing a host of health issues. Sitting alone in the emergency room, surrounded by uncertainty, was a deeply unsettling experience — and it was then that I truly understood the value of having a village around me. After the ER visit, I was feeling unwell, but my closest friend at Cornell showed up like a snowstorm superhero — literally — in the middle of a squall, armed with chocolates and face masks! Gestures like these may seem small but can have such a profound impact on someone’s life.
As I progressed through early 2025, I made the difficult decision to take a leave of absence to prioritize my health. I have always been an overachiever, and this felt like a personal failure, even though I knew it shouldn’t. However, my village (which included my research advisor, family and friends from both Canada and the United States) stood behind me. Their unwavering support gave me the strength to take the necessary step of going on leave. I found myself at one of the lowest points in my life, and at times, overcoming my health problems seemed impossible. I am deeply grateful to my parents who supported me through my treatment, taking me to doctor appointments and helping me manage adverse side effects of medications. My research advisor also ensured that this leave would have the least impact on my research progress as possible. Meanwhile, my friends called me daily and let me talk for hours till I felt better. My recovery would not have been possible without the relentless support of my village.
However, my perspective on the concept of a village underwent a profound change. In the past, I had always considered myself merely a member of my village. Now I realize that I am actually the head of the village — the sarpanch one might say — and God and my community can only support me when I am ready to support myself. This shift came about by reading about Hindu mythology. In the Hindu epic Mahabharata, Lord Krishna serves as Arjuna’s charioteer and guide, offering counsel throughout the Kurukshetra war. While Krishna does not engage in battle himself, he plays a pivotal role through his guidance. Arjuna fights alongside his brothers — the Pandavas — who form his village in the war.
I have come to see my life through this lens, and it has positively impacted the way I approach things. While God remains my greatest mentor, I have realized that I am the head of my own village — and it’s up to me to take the first step in facing adversity.
I have also come to understand that my village is not made up solely of people; it includes the activities that nourish me. For me, that means research, music, yoga and meditation. Essentially, if I were to define it in a biological way, a village is a set of functions that sustain both the mind and body. It truly takes a village — and I hope you find yours, too.
Kirtana Devaraj is a PhD candidate at the Meinig School of Biomedical Engineering. She can be reached at kd534@cornell.edu.
