The virtues of an open heart: On becoming a New Yorker

Life, in its unpredictable way, is a quilt of experiences stitched together by the kindness of strangers, the grace of friends, and the unwavering support of family. As I sit down to reflect, warmed by the glow of a November that brings both my birth and my gratitude into focus, I find myself returning to one truth: none of this–none of me–would have been possible without the generosity of others and the openness of spirit they inspired in me.

I was only 20 when I landed in Manhattan, bright-eyed, brimming with ambition, and carrying little more than a suitcase filled with dreams. Manhattan, that untamed beast of a city, can intimidate even the bravest. Yet for me, it was a land of open doors. I came to study graphic design, but what I truly enrolled in was the school of humanity.

From the moment I arrived, I was welcomed into the folds of a city that pulsed with life and possibility. Strangers, sensing the vulnerability of my youth and the determination in my heart, extended their hands. Someone gave me a place to stay at a rent that wouldn’t strangle my budget. Someone else gave me a reference that would open professional doors. And someone, quietly and without expectation, simply said, “You can do it.”

In those early years, I saw the best of humanity. People didn’t have to help me–they chose to. In doing so, they showed me what it means to give without reserve and to trust in the promise of others. And so, as I moved through the city’s labyrinth of opportunities, I tried to mirror that same generosity.

From student to store manager at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I learned the language of beauty and curation. At Bergdorf Goodman, that temple of retail, I became the buyer of Home Furnishings, learning how to spot the sublime in the everyday. At Henri Bendel, I stepped into the role of Merchandising Director, where fashion met storytelling. By 25, I was the youngest adjunct professor at NYU’s School of Nutrition and Food Studies, teaching others to see the world through a lens of flavor and sustenance.

It was never a straight path. It was a zigzag of challenges, discoveries, losses, and triumphs. Yet at every twist and turn, there were hands guiding me–friends, mentors, siblings, even passing acquaintances. My siblings often did with less so that I could have more. My parents, elastic in their wisdom, questioned, cautioned, and then blessed me with their unwavering support. They watched as I stumbled and soared, always ready to lift me higher.

From working alongside the President of Mrs. John L. Strong Stationers, crafting stationery for royalty and the world’s elite, to teaching cooking classes that would later draw celebrities, I discovered that the power of connection wasn’t limited to one domain. My journey into food–a language universal and intimate–was a leap of faith.

As a caterer in New York City, I found myself becoming a bridge between cultures. Then came Devi, the first South Asian restaurant in North America to earn a Michelin star–a triumph not just for me but for an entire diaspora whose flavors had too often been relegated to the periphery. It was a moment that transcended personal achievement.

Later, as head of the Asian Studies Center at the Culinary Institute of America, and while speaking at global conferences like Harvard’s School of Public Health and the UN Youth Summit, I carried forward the lessons Manhattan had taught me: patience, kindness, generosity, graciousness, and a belief in the interconnectedness of all humanity.

What worked for me, and what continues to guide me, is fearlessness–born of trust in the unknown and in the inherent goodness of people. This trust was instilled in me by my parents, who kept our home free of locks and keys. They taught us that the world was a reflection of who we are. If we approached life with an open heart, it would respond in kind.

This philosophy has been my north star. It has allowed me to see the world as a shared space where we are not isolated beings but threads in a vast, intricate tapestry. Every kindness we extend is a stitch that binds us closer. Every moment of patience or acceptance strengthens the weave.

As I reflect on my life–this unexpected roller coaster of experiences–I am filled with gratitude. For my parents, who dared to raise us with a belief in abundance and possibility. For my siblings, who sacrificed and cheered me on. For the strangers who became friends, and the friends who became family. For every loss that taught me resilience and every triumph that reminded me to stay humble.

November 29th, the day I was born into the Saran-Bhardwaj clan in New Delhi, is more than a birthday. It is a reminder of the blessings that have shaped me–the blessings of love, opportunity, and connection.

As I celebrate this day, I think of all those who are starting their own journeys, who might feel as uncertain and unmoored as I once did at 20. To them, I offer this: trust the world, even when it feels daunting. Approach each person with kindness and every challenge with curiosity. Be patient with yourself and others. And above all, remain open–to the unknown, to the unfamiliar, to the extraordinary gifts that humanity has to offer.

The world is an echo chamber, and the goodness you send out will come back to you, amplified. If I have learned anything from my life, it is this: we rise, not alone, but together.

Disclaimer: Suvir Saran is an author, columnist and Chef. The views expressed in this column are his own. This article appeared in ANI on November 29.