I first met Mrs Sarojini Dash in the early 2000s, and the very first time I heard her speak, she felt like a member of my own family. She was as open and accepting as my aunt and my mother — women who gave unflinchingly of themselves and their love. In those days, it was rare to meet parents like that, and she gave me great comfort in the realisation that there were others out there who thought and felt as they did. She gave us her time generously, and even after her own son emigrated to the US, she continued to attend our meetings whenever she was called. She wanted to show her solidarity, her support, and her unshakeable belief in acceptance.

Mrs Dash was more than just a pioneering professional; she was a voice of compassion, reason, and quiet strength in a world that often needed reminding of the power of love. One of the first women psychiatrists in all of Orissa, she combined her medical expertise with a rare empathy and a broad-mindedness that set her apart. She attended our parents’ meets whenever she could, older than my own aunts and yet with a freshness of thought that was ahead of her times. My aunts greatly admired her for the way she carried herself — with dignity, clarity, and a grace that left an impression on all who met her.

She was the kind of person you would stop and listen to even if she spoke in the softest voice. She thought carefully before speaking, and when she did, every word was measured, clear, and succinct. In her declarations of acceptance and love for her gay son, there was never a hint of hesitation. Her message was always unwavering — that being gay is perfectly normal, not a disorder, and that parents must embrace and support their LGBT children wholeheartedly.

She accepted her son Ajit — my friend — with pride and complete warmth, and she never shied away from speaking about this acceptance in public forums. She became a regular at our Gay Bombay parents’ meets, where her presence was a source of reassurance to many. She later became one of the founding members of the Sweekar group, lending her wisdom and her voice to a growing movement of parents who stand beside their queer children with love and conviction.

Mrs Dash leaves behind her two sons, one of whom I am proud to call my friend. My mother joins me in sending her deepest condolences to the bereaved family.

In her dignified presence, in her thoughtful silences, and in her lucid, courageous words, Mrs Dash has left behind not just memories, but a legacy. Her example will continue to inspire — reminding us that true acceptance is both an act of love and a moral duty.

And as the journey for LGBT acceptance continues, her voice will echo in every conversation, every act of courage, and every step towards a world where no child ever doubts their worth or their right to be loved exactly as they are. May her soul find its onward journey bathed in light and love, and may her spirit continue to guide those who walk the path she so fearlessly lit.