Bollywood, Bodegas, and Ballots: What Zohran Mamdani Teaches Us About Belonging
In her essay, Rimsha Butt explores how Zohran Mamdani uses the power of culture to make politics more accessible and human. His campaign shows that identity is not only something to celebrate, but also a tool for creating change and building connections across communities.
It’s Wednesday, the 5th of November, 8 a.m., and I get a notification: Zohran Mamdani has been elected as the mayor of New York City. Right after that, my Instagram feed immediately fills with memes, praise and celebration. One post that made me smile was his outro in the acceptance speech — “Dhoom Machale” from the 2004 Bollywood film ’Dhoom’.
His wife, Rama Duwaji, an animator, illustrator, and ceramist, was wearing a top by Zeid Hijazi, a Palestinian-Jordanian designer blending Palestinian heritage with Middle Eastern craftsmanship and couture elements. It’s a simple, yet powerful, political statement through clothes — a gesture of visibility, pride, and ownership of cultural identity. Duwaji, of Syrian descent, also focuses in her own work on Middle Eastern women, particularly in Gaza.
This attention to cultural symbolism and storytelling extends to Mamdani himself. He also references a scene from another Bollywood classic called Deewar: “Aaj mere paas building-ein hain, property hai, bank balance hai, gaadi hai. Tum hare paas kya hai?” (“Today I have buildings, property, bank balance, car. What do you have?”). Mamdani then steps into frame in the pose of Shah Rukh Khan (one of the biggest Bollywood actors) and says “Aap” (“You”). By using film and other cultural references, he makes his policies and the voting process more relatable to people across ages and cultures.
“He often says he doesn’t just represent immigrants; he embodies immigration at its most layered.”
Born to a Ugandan Indian filmmaker mother and an academic father, Mamdani moved to New York City at the age of seven. He’s been surrounded by immigration, diaspora, and culture his whole life. He often says he doesn’t just represent immigrants; he embodies immigration lat its most layered. His parents’ interfaith marriage (his mother is Hindu, his father Muslim) shaped his understanding of cultural complexities, backgrounds and identity, and not fall into stereotypes, such as all Indians being Hindu or not acknowledging or understanding the diaspora (I know how basic these stereotypes are, but they are still very present).
But why does a mayoral candidate in New York City resonate globally? There are a few reasons, but the biggest one is that he’s a politician of the people, not for power or money. He actually makes the people he represents feel seen and heard.
“These weren’t your typical “vote for me” messages – they were smart, funny, and full of cultural references from the languages he spoke.”
He recorded videos in Arabic, Spanish, Hindi, and Urdu. These weren’t your typical “vote for me” messages — they were smart, funny, and full of cultural references from the languages he spoke. His campaign, from the designs and bright colours (that his wife helped create) to visiting local restaurants and getting his favourite meals and talking to the owners, was original and human. When he quotes Bollywood or greets voters in their own languages, it’s not just performative multiculturalism: it’s a declaration that culture itself is political. It’s a way of saying: we belong everywhere we are.
He greets all the Asian uncles driving taxis while he walks by with his flyers. Mamdani is a young, charismatic candidate who clearly understands the value of culture and the arts, influenced by his mother and wife. On social media, he and his wife have captured attention not only as an adorable couple, but also because they met on the dating app Hinge. Who knew there might be some hope after all? Duwaji has supported him through her own work since he started running for mayor. And together, they offer a refreshing example of how politics, art, and activism can intersect creatively and energize a community.
Mamdani raised eight million dollars from his supporters in the local communities — and then asked them to stop donating because they had reached the maximum amount of money they could legally spend in the election. All the merch on his website was shut down, along with other donation links. This is more proof that he’s someone who wants to bring change and not misuse people’s support. Instead, he asked people to donate their time by canvassing — going door to door — and phone banking, making phone calls to potential voters to share his message.
His acceptance speech summed it up: “New York will remain a city of immigrants, a city built by immigrants, powered by immigrants, and as of tonight, led by an immigrant!” And his entire campaign reflected exactly that. All the Desi aunties, whether Pakistani, Indian, or Bangladeshi, made an entire playful “pop” song in Urdu inspired by the Pakistani wedding songs to show their support. It was as if all the South Asian moms came together to support their “son”. He made aunties from different cultures come together for his support, and that felt so big! If the aunties approve of you, it means that you are actually ‘legit’.
“Mamdani also knew exactly how immigrant communities connect online — through humour, memes, and pop culture.”
Mamdani went to local bodegas and restaurants, the places that represent the everyday multiculturalism of New York, where politics literally meets people over food. Mamdani also knew exactly how immigrant communities connect online — through humour, memes, and pop culture — and he tapped into that energy, showing up at parties in Brooklyn at 1 a.m. or appearing on the SubwayTakes show with Kareem. His campaign team and everyone who volunteered honestly deserves recognition for their creativity in connecting with communities.
Videos of people happily shouting “My mayor” for Mamdani could be found all over the internet when the polls were not yet closed, not just from New York but from people all around the world. Which again shows how much of an influence he’s had in places much further than New York.
It makes me wonder what would politics in Belgium or the Netherlands look like if culture played a more central role in how we connect. In both countries, diversity is often treated as a bureaucratic requirement — a box to tick, a quota to fulfil — rather than a lived reality that shapes cities and communities. Especially within many right-leaning parties, there is a persistent attachment to nationalist narratives: the idea of a fixed, homogeneous culture that must be protected, rather than a dynamic society enriched by migration, diaspora, and cultural exchange.
“A more culturally attentive politics wouldn’t just “represent” these communities on paper — it would actually make people feel seen, heard, and understood.”
What gets lost in this mindset is an understanding of how deeply it matters when politicians make an effort to learn about the cultures of the people they hope to represent. Too often, diversity appears in policies only as an afterthought, or not at all. And it’s frustrating to see politicians seek support from residents of multicultural cities while showing little genuine interest in their languages, histories, or everyday experiences. A more culturally attentive politics wouldn’t just “represent” these communities on paper — it would actually make people feel seen, heard, and understood.
Leaders like Mamdani remind us that representation isn’t just about “how good it looks” but how one’s culture and identity can bring underrepresented communities together for social change.
Rimsha Butt (23) is based in Brussels and recently graduated with a master’s in documentary direction from RITCS. Passionate about cinema, different cultures, diaspora, and taboos, her films are an exploration of these themes through a poetic visual language.