Krish’s friends say he is virtually unchanged since his first year. A few pounds heavier, possibly. Bigger hair, most definitely. His once red-hot ambition to dance back-up for Britney has cooled and his choice of headwear become more daring. (The most infamous he favored for a spell was a trucker hat that declared, “I Love Intercourse”—picked up in Intercourse, Penn.)

In fact, for roommate Adam J. Hornstine ’03, a moment in freshman week captures who Krish has been throughout college. The second-floor Greenough gang had gone to dinner at Annenberg.

But, he recalls, “there were 10 seats and there were 11 of us. Everyone sat down and I was the odd man out, so he came and sat with me at another table. Yes, awww, isn’t Krish sweet? But that’s something I’ll always remember because, in a nugget, that’s what he’s about.”

But even as Krish has breakdanced with a crew in the Square, stolen the limelight at the B.J. show, sparred verbally with Jackie Chan at Cultural Rhythms and reigned over his House as Miss Pfoho, he has found the time to learn more about the person he is becoming.

For the first time, he has developed a positive sense of what it means to be Indian. It’s not that he ever felt ashamed of his ethnicity, he says, but growing up in an area where most of his peers were Scandinavian Lutherans made it difficult for him to appreciate his difference.

Meeting larger numbers of South Asian students at Harvard has made him value his heritage more highly. South Asian theater was part of that awakening, Krish says, but his experience with the Gunghroo dance troupe was more influential.

“Gunghroo brings together a lot of people and I think it brings together people in a very organic way, for a purpose,” he says. “It’s not like I have to meet people just because they’re Indian, but we’re connecting about our Indianness or our Indian heritage over this art, and that’s really powerful.”

Krish has also broadened his definition of success. When he first came to Harvard, he was “pretty much set on getting a good job or going to the best graduate school possible.” Now, though, his priorities have become much more centered around social justice and personal relationships.

He has built some of his closest relationships with the Hole in the Wall Gang.

After interning for Minnesota’s then-Governor Jesse Ventura and delivering pizzas the summer after his first year, Krish became involved with the camp after hearing about it from a former participant who’s now at Harvard.

Founded by Paul Newman in 1988, the non-profit camp in northeastern Connecticut hosts for free each summer more than 1,000 children who have cancer and other life-threatening diseases such as sickle cell anemia, leukemia and HIV.

Krish has spent the past two summers there—this summer will make three—as a cabin counselor and member of the theater staff, doing everything from teaching the campers improv to making sure they get their medication.

“Experiences at camp have taught me that good relationships with people, that compassion and relationships, are probably the most important thing,” he says. “And that’s a really, profoundly different view than I came in with.”

He has brought this philosophy to bear on his extracurriculars. He’s spent countless hours teaching public school children to dance as the executive producer and director of City Step, which says giving students the means of self-expression helps improve their self-confidence.

He founded the advocacy group Cambridge Student Partnership, which connects unemployed, homeless people in Cambridge with community resources. He has overseen its growth from “five students around a table” his sophomore year to a staff of more than 20 that works out of two offices in Central Square and assists 55 clients a year.