19 April,2026 09:17 AM IST | Mumbai | Junisha Dama
A celebration of Sindhi culture at the Sindhi Viraasat event at Kala Ghoda Arts Festival in 2025
For a community that lost its land in 1947, culture has always only lived in memory. Unlike other linguistic groups in India, Sindhis have no state to anchor their identity.
Post-Partition, they dispersed across the globe, rebuilding lives in cities like Mumbai, Ulhasnagar, and Pune. Scholars have long pointed out that in the absence of geographic consolidation, language, and culture often weaken over generations, surviving primarily through oral traditions, rituals, and food.
The Sindhi story fits this pattern. Much of its cultural transmission happened informally through kitchens, festivals, and family gatherings. Over time, public cultural production, whether in cinema, literature, or music, remained sporadic.
Even in cinema, the numbers tell a story of fragility. Sindhi films began in India with Abana (1958), but the industry never found a steady footing. In the decades since Independence, only about 30 Sindhi films have been produced in India.
By the 2000s and 2010s, releases became scattered. Only a few made it to screens, including films like Pyar Kare Dis (2007), Pyar Jaa Rang (2013), and Jaag Sindhi Jaag (2015), which appeared sporadically, with little distribution muscle.
Now, something has shifted. Sindhi culture is reappearing across Instagram feeds, indie music stages, pop-ups, and even cinema halls. This is not a revival in the traditional sense. Because it springs from a younger generation that is no longer preoccupied with survival.
Besides, the term "revival" suggests something lost and then found. Sindhi culture was never lost; it was simply contained within homes and the community.
What is happening could be called entering the mainstream. As the younger generation no longer needs to prioritise survival, they can instead afford to look back, reinterpret, and share. And perhaps for the first time in decades, Sindhi culture is not just being preserved. It is being performed, documented, questioned and most importantly, seen.
"There was a gap," says Mohit Mordani, "All my knowledge about Sindhis was through family. But what if I did not have access to this knowledge? And how many others don't?"
His entry point was research. Books he picked up on Sindhi history and culture revealed information he had never encountered growing up. It pushed him to make a deliberate attempt to simplify and disseminate.
Mohit Mordani
"Hinglish is the most common language. I want non-Sindhis, people married into the community, even the diaspora, to understand it," he says, explaining why his content is in Hinglish instead of in Sindhi.
His content sits at an intersection: it's archival, explanatory, but accessible. And crucially, it fills a gap that earlier generations didn't prioritise. "We are at the third or fourth generation after Partition. We have had the chance to live peacefully. Now we want to know where we come from."
He also points to how identity has historically been diluted. "Sindhis melt into the environment. You won't even know someone is Sindhi unless they speak the language," he says. Mordani wants to make the Sindhi identity visible again, without making it insular.
Dirven Hazari decided to make Byo Cha Khape in 2025, in a space that had struggled to exist. "People told me, âDon't make it, Sindhi films don't run. You have to give free tickets, food, and drinks just to get people to come'," he recalls.
A still from the Sindhi film, Byo Cha Khape (2025)
Historically, that hasn't been far from the truth. Without a consolidated audience base or distribution networks, Sindhi cinema has remained niche.
Hazari recognised this gap early. "I knew this would not happen with me," he says, "Earlier, there was no social media. But I already have an audience," he adds, pointing out that he has been making family-friendly Sindhi web series and comedic content on YouTube under the handle @Sindhionism.
Dirven Hazari
With a younger audience willing to engage, Byo Cha Khape did not release as a community obligation; instead, it was purely entertainment. It was welcomed in theatres across Ulhasnagar, Chembur, Bandra, Khar, and abroad. It sold over 30,000 tickets and ran shows over Diwali as well.
"It worked because it was light, relatable. Even non-Sindhis enjoyed it. People brought their friends," adds Hazari, informing us that he is working on bringing more Sindhi content to OTT platforms.
Sindhi culture largely survived post-Partition through kitchens, and Punya Raheja is taking it out into the world. With Spicy Sindhi, a home kitchen and supper club, her aim is clear: make Sindhi food visible and accessible.
"There was nowhere you could go for a good Sindhi meal," she says. "If you wanted proper home-style food, the only way was someone's house." Raheja says her father always felt strongly about this. Now, along with her grandmother and parents, she runs Spicy Sindhi as a home-delivery kitchen. They also hosted a Sutho Sindhi Supper Club in Bandra.
But are people ready to try the cuisine? "At pop-ups, people are hesitant. But once they taste the food, they are convinced," she says, adding that the Sindhi mutton quesadilla and chicken kofta with keema dip were a success at Lil Flea earlier this month. Her menus reflect both familiarity and discovery, pairing staples like sai bhaji and curry chawal with lesser-known dishes like wadiyun aloo or thairi. And increasingly, non-Sindhis are showing up for this. "We get calls asking, what else can we try? Can you customise something off-menu?"
For Raheja, this moment is part of a larger cultural shift. "It's not just food. With the Partition Museum, creators talking about culture, everything is coming together," she says.
Comedy is emerging as an unexpected archive through Sindhi creators like Divya Bhansali, 31. She uses domestic quirks and linguistic humour, which she says she draws from her mom's phone calls with her siblings. "The juice of all my content comes from my mom and Sindhi aunties around me. That's how they talk, it is hilarious," she says.
Bhansali says she first began using Snapchat filters and making content for friends in 2018, and was encouraged to churn it out regularly on Instagram. "I think everyone should have content in their language to enjoy. Sindhis don't have much of it, so I decided I would create it." Now she is preserving not just language, but tone, behaviour, and social dynamics of the community.
Bhansali's audience is primarily between 18 and 35 years of age, and her commentary in Sindhi as an aunty on Gen Z culture is most popular. Think: A Sindhi aunty commenting on Labubu, matcha, Bridgerton, and more.
But there are limitations. Despite over 70,000 followers and views in lakhs, Bhansali barely sees brand deals. "There is no clear path. For Hindi or other language creators, they might get an acting job out of this or brand deals. My content has high engagement, but brands don't want to work with me because I have a niche audience," she says.
The first generation after Partition focused on rebuilding. The second stabilised. The third is asking questions and is curious about their identity.
Memes about Sindhi culture bring relatability through humour
Punya Raheja says, "We're not in survival mode anymore," when we ask her why the shift is only occurring now. Bhansali, who began posting in 2018, says that it's simply an increase in volume. "People were always promoting the culture, it was just on the fringe. Now it's more amplified.
Creators such as Divya Bhansali (@thatsindhichokri)
Mordani echoes this. "Our parents focused on education and stability. So, culture took a backseat. Now, curiosity has come in." Mordani also points out how the algorithm's repeated exposure has created a feedback loop: more Sindhi content leads to more visibility, which in turn encourages more creators.
Mohit Mordani (@ whysosindhi) are making relatable content on the culture
"You see one reel, and you are fed more reels on Sindhis. So a Sindhi model who was posting content as is, is now holding a koki in the frame, or something else."
>> âElectronic Jazz musician Tarun Balani released his album Kadhaein Milandasi in 2025, which explores Sindhi identity through sound.
>> âMusician Vandana Nirankari has been experimenting with sound to attract younger audiences. Along with Tips Sindhi, she released Dindo Amiri Ya in March 2026.
>> âPlatforms like The Sindhi Saaz Foundation, headed by oral historian and author Saaz Aggarwal, are expanding access with archival work.
>> â Pahinjo Kirdaar, a play written and directed by Nikhil Katara, is travelling across Maharashtra, carrying stories of Sindhi lives through monologue performances.
>> âProjects like the Doorway of Sindh at the Partition Museum in Delhi offer physical spaces for memory.
>> âOn Instagram, kid creators like Kiara Ochani are normalising the language for new audiences.
