Integration and upliftment within the Indian community is something close to the heart of Mr Dinesh Vasu Dash.
“We have a problem,” he said, noting that Prime Minister Lawrence Wong had, at a youth dialogue last month, praised the Singapore Indian community for punching above its weight.
“If the Indian community continues to fracture – between North and South Indians, locals and expats – we will not be able to punch above our weight in the future, as we have in the past.”
Mr Dinesh is particularly concerned about the divide between locally born Singapore Indians and the new wave of immigrants from India – many of whom are well-educated professionals in high-paying jobs.
They live in their own circles, their own condos, eat in different places, he observed. “And meanwhile, some local Indian families are struggling – socially, economically, even educationally.
He warned that without concerted efforts to build bridges, Singapore risks importing the divisions of the subcontinent.
“We are inheriting the fractures of India. North versus South. Tamil versus Hindi. Caste hierarchies that don’t belong here,” he said.
“It does not matter to me if you are a local Indian or a foreign-born Indian. As long as you are a Singaporean, it doesn’t matter to me if you’re a North Indian or a South Indian, because all of us are together, and we need to find ways to bring everybody together.”
His solution? Honest, community-led conversations and practical engagement.
“It cannot be just the government doing the work. The community must step up. We need locals and new immigrants to sit down, listen to one another and make an effort to integrate.”
Mr Dinesh draws on personal experience. His own extended family in the United Kingdom, once a tightly-knit South Indian cluster, has by the third generation transformed into a multicultural mix.
“I’ve got Scottish and Greek nephews,” he said with a laugh. “But it took time. It didn’t happen in the first generation.”
He also pointed to success stories within Singapore: “The Sindhi community, for example, already has 75 per cent of their clan activities led by locals and 25 per cent by expats. That’s a model we can all learn from.”
Beyond operational acumen, Mr Dinesh believes his deeper value lies in his understanding of minority concerns.
He is concerned about social mobility – ensuring no Singapore Indian is left behind. Of particular concern is that we are forgetting the bottom third of the local community who are struggling with education, drugs, alcohol and crime.
He wants a sharper focus on uplifting this group – particularly through education and mentorship. “We need more locally born success stories,” he said.
Mr Dinesh is clear about what he wants to do: bridge gaps, foster integration and build a stronger, more cohesive Indian community – so Singapore as a whole can thrive.
“Because if we don’t rise together,” he said, “we’ll fall apart.”
Mr Dinesh’s decision to enter politics wasn’t taken lightly. In 2020, he had signed a contract to move into the private sector when he was asked to postpone it to join the Health Ministry in the thick of the pandemic.
Later, it was then-Deputy Prime Minister Lawrence Wong who personally approached him about politics.
“I remember telling him: “I can help you as a civil servant – I don’t need to join politics,’” Mr Dinesh recounted.
But he was won over by PM Wong’s sincerity.
“I had the opportunities I did because of Singapore. Now I want to make sure my children and their children have the same chances – and that no one gets left behind,” he said.
That’s the motivation that drives him.
PM Wong has hinted that Mr Dinesh, along with former army chief David Neo, have the potential to grow into bigger leadership roles.
Both men, he noted, had demonstrated outstanding crisis leadership during the pandemic, with Mr Dinesh overseeing the complex nationwide vaccination campaign.
But Mr Dinesh is in no rush to speculate about a ministerial future.
“There are grades to political appointments – Minister of State, Senior Minister of State – it’s a steep learning curve. It’s not about a title; it’s about whether you can operate under intense pressure and deliver outcomes.”
Metallica fan who sings Tamil songs
Long before Mr Dinesh Vasu Dash marched into Singapore’s political spotlight, he was a quiet boy growing up in a cramped police quarters at Pearl’s Hill, near Chinatown, sleeping beside his brother and grandmother in a room barely enough for three.
Yet, as he tells it: “We never felt like anything was lacking.”
It was a childhood filled with warmth, held together by a tight-knit family and the quiet heroism of his father Vasu Dash – a police officer for 34 years who once guarded President Devan Nair and Singapore’s founding Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew.
“He used to do 24-hour shifts and still made time for us,” Mr Dinesh recalled. “He set the standard for what service looks like – not just to the nation, but to your family.”
That example stayed with Mr Dinesh as the family moved from their one-room quarters to a three-room HDB flat in Telok Blangah Rise.
Mr Dinesh’s story is also deeply entwined with his Indian heritage.
He is a third-generation Singaporean with ancestral roots in Varkala, Kerala. His maternal family first settled in Malaysia before coming to Singapore, while his paternal grandfather ran a small business servicing the British naval base in Sembawang in the 1960s.
The family has long been part of Singapore’s working-class backbone – resilient, humble and driven by community. Some of his relatives migrated to the United Kingdom after the British pullout in 1971.
Mr Dinesh, who speaks fluent Malayalam and Tamil, spent a year in India on military training and describes it as rediscovering his roots.
An Anglo-Chinese School boy who studied electrical engineering at the National University of Singapore, his attraction to the military came early.
“It was almost instinctive. Maybe it was from watching my dad in uniform,” he said. The military’s sense of structure and service spoke to him – and it became the foundation of his leadership.
His passion for sports reflects that same drive. The boy who once suffered from chronic asthma and had to go in and out of hospital, played hockey in school and ran tirelessly as a right-half – “It’s my karma to have to work hard,” he said.
But it was water polo that mirrored his spirit best. “It’s a sport where you can’t stop moving. You’re always treading water. That’s how I live – always in motion.”
Despite a packed schedule, Mr Dinesh carves out time for his three children aged between 12 and 20 – two boys and a girl. Every morning, no matter how late his meetings end, he insists on sending them to school.
“It’s my way of ensuring I’m present. Yesterday I got home at 1am, but I was up by 5.30am to drive them. It’s tiring, but it’s worth it.”
He was also present for his elder son’s graduation at Republic Polytechnic on May 5, less than 48 hours after the general election was over.
Weekends, too, are sacred. He “curates” his time carefully, juggling constituency duties, family time and his ongoing volunteer work with Indian organisations.
His wife Dr Rathiga Velaithan, a cancer researcher in the public sector before she became a homemaker, wholeheartedly supports his political commitments.
Mr Dinesh starts his day with music and loves mee siam, wanton mee and prata with fish curry. “Simple, hearty, soul food,” he said beaming.
His music taste ranges from Tamil songs of the 80s to heavy metal music. In a recent video interview with Tamil Murasu he belted out a popular S.P. Balasubrahmanyam number Illaya Nila.
“People know I like Metallica, but I also listen to Pearl Jam, Marilyn Manson, Alice in Chains…you name it,” he said.
For Mr Dinesh, heavy metal isn’t just noise – it’s a way to channel stress.
“People ask me if I’m stressed. I say, stress is when someone’s shooting at you. Everything else is just work.”
