Moments earlier, he was having a meltdown. Now, his breathing slows. This is not instinct. It is learnt. For years, Naneecharam thought this behaviour was something to endure.
“I thought letting it pass was the only option,” the Perak-born said. “I didn’t know there were tools.”
Those tools – breathing techniques, backward counting, sensory regulation – came later, through a postgraduate diploma in autism and a certificate in ADHD from the Asian College of Teachers.
But the decision to learn did not begin in a classroom. It began with a question she could not answer: How do I help my children if I don’t understand what they’re going through?
A trade commissioner by profession and a certified yoga instructor by training, Naneecharam’s real work begins at home. Her two children, Abhineya, seven, and Arisshvaran, six, are autistic, and the cost of professional therapy was unsustainable.
“I couldn’t even afford anything for them to do. I thought maybe I needed two jobs … work at McDonald’s or as a Grab driver at night,” the single mother recalled. Naneecharam and her husband separated due to misunderstandings after her children received the autism diagnosis.
When she began posting videos of herself practising yoga with her daughter, messages started coming in. “Some people asked if I’m a therapist teaching yoga for autistic kids. That got me thinking.”
Instead of outsourcing help she could not afford, she chose to become the help. “I had two case studies at home,” she said. “Whatever I learnt, I applied immediately.”
The biggest shift was not progress, but perspective. What once seemed harmless – her daughter listening to the same song repeatedly – took on new meaning.
“She was happy, and really enjoying herself, but she was living in a different world,” Naneecharam said. Slowly, she learnt to redirect without punishment.
That understanding also reshaped how she defined readiness. For Naneecharam, it was never just about academics, but whether her children could function, communicate and cope beyond the safety of home.
“Readiness is social, emotional and functional,” she said – a belief that now shapes everything she does, from toilet training to playdates.
At swimming pools, she approaches other parents first. “I tell them my children are autistic. I ask if their child can play with mine.” Most say yes. Friendships form.
“Inclusion doesn’t happen by accident,” she said. “You have to create it.” Consistency matters too – the same cues at home, daycare and school. “If adults aren’t aligned, the child can’t be.”
That alignment was tested publicly during her graduation ceremony in Bangkok. On stage, she held her certificate while her children stood beside her. “They became the stars,” she said.
Today, Naneecharam is sceptical about shortcuts. “If there was one product that fixed speech delay, therapy centres wouldn’t exist,” she said. What she believes in instead is learning – especially for parents.
“Parents are overwhelmed, parents are clueless,” she said, noting that many avoid workshops and awareness programmes altogether.
Too often, parents chase quick fixes, when in reality these don’t work for all the kids. Sometimes, it only makes things worse. “The first step is understanding our own child.”
She now teaches yoga to autistic children, organises inclusive hikes, and supports parents who reach out to her late at night.
She plans to offer online sessions combining movement, mindfulness, and education, designed for parents who cannot leave home, who cannot afford trial and error. “Your home becomes the centre,” she said. “You are the teacher.”
Naneecharam also rejects the language of deficit.
“Autism is not a disease,” she said. “It’s a different ability.” Finding that ability, she said, requires patience, humility, and work that no one applauds.
“The important thing is they need to know how to manage themselves, how to mingle in this society, and pick up some life skills. Then everything will fall into place,” she concluded.