By Robin | Co-Founder
Dear Kranti Family,
As this year winds down, I wanted to write to you not with a checklist of activities, but with a story. Or rather, a few moments that stayed with me over the past few months.
From September through December, I was traveling almost nonstop. More than two months on the road, across Europe and the United States, covering 22 cities with barely a week at home in between. I slept on borrowed sofas, lived out of suitcases, and spent every day telling Kranti’s story again and again, often not knowing where it would land.
Much of this travel wasn’t glamorous or immediately rewarding. Many meetings were simply about listening, about planting seeds without knowing if they would grow. Some conversations will turn into future support. Some will turn into advocacy. Some may never come back around at all. That uncertainty is part of this work.
But every so often, something happens that cuts through the exhaustion and reminds me why this work continues.
On one of the U.S. stops, a friend introduced me to a woman who “might be interested in education.” That was all. No expectations. No promises. I walked into her house and, if I’m being honest, I judged her almost immediately. The house was large, immaculate, unmistakably expensive. And my tired, flawed human brain went straight to wondering what someone like her could possibly understand about girls from India’s red-light areas.
Then she began telling me her story.
She had been married very young, in an arranged marriage that quickly became violent. Dowry demands escalated. When her family couldn’t meet them, the abuse worsened. She was isolated from her parents, hospitalized multiple times, and eventually ran away. What followed wasn’t a neat redemption story, but years of fighting, for her education, for her independence, for the right to build a different life.
Years later, she moved to the US where she and her husband built a company together. In 2022, they sold it and became multimillionaires. Sitting across from me that afternoon, she said something that held her entire life inside it: “education changed everything for me. It’s the most important thing a girl in India can have. I want to spend the rest of my life giving that gift to others.”
She didn’t ask for guarantees or timelines. She committed, immediately, to supporting Kranti girls in university for $10,000 a year. Not for a few years, but for as long as she lives.
That meeting stayed with me as the trip went on. City after city. Conversation after conversation. Some felt tentative. Some felt like slow relationship-building. And then there were moments of generosity that felt almost unreal.
Last year, on Christmas morning in India (and just days after my double mastectomy) I woke up to a message from a woman I had never met. She had listened quietly, trusted deeply, and decided to act. She committed $100,000 to support the Kranti home. It was, without question, the most extraordinary Christmas gift of my life.
This year, I tried to meet her during my travels, hoping to thank her in person. She is now in her late eighties and struggling with health issues. When a mutual friend explained I was in the U.S. again, her response was simple: “I’m too unwell for visitors. But please tell her I’m happy to give Kranti another $100,000 this year.”
No meeting. No presentation. No update call. Just another act of faith. A woman, nearing ninety, choosing to invest once more in girls she will never meet, in a country she will never see, simply because she believes education changes lives.
I don’t know her story. I don’t know what in her own life drew her to girls’ education, or to this work. I will probably never know. What I do know is that she is now the largest individual donor in Kranti’s history, and that being believed in so fully by someone who owes us nothing is a privilege I don’t take lightly.
Placed next to the story of the woman I met this year, who survived violence, fought for her education, and is now committing to support girls year after year, a quiet truth revealed itself: Kranti is held up by women across generations. Some still building their lives. Some looking back on theirs. All choosing, in their own way, to pass something forward.
That understanding carried me through the rest of the trip, even in my exhaustion. It reminded me that Kranti isn’t sustained by dramatic moments alone, but by women who keep choosing to show up — for themselves, for each other, and for girls who are still finding their way.
When I finally returned home to Dharamshala, I was greeted by the most immediate reminder of who those girls are: nine- and ten-year-olds “finding their way” straight to my suitcases, entirely unconcerned with jet lag or fundraising, but VERY invested in how much chocolate was inside!
As this season comes to a close, I feel nothing but gratitude…for the women who trusted me with their stories, and for you, our GlobalGiving community, who continue to believe in this work. This work continues not because it’s easy, but because it’s shared. And sometimes, belief itself is the greatest gift.
Wishing all of you a happy holiday season of endless joy, love, laughter, and delicious food with your family and loved ones. Thank you for being our family for 15 years. May the generosity you’ve shown return to you many times over - in joy, health, love and lives changed.
With endless gratitude,
Robin
By Shweta Tara | Krantikari & Staff
By Robin | Founder
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