On Mother's Day...

On Mother's Day...
Maa, Amma, Aai, Mamma, Baa are some of the different ways in which children call their mother. The one thing common among these different ways of calling is the softness associated with the word mother. Shakespeare has rightly said, the rose by any other name would smell as sweet. And so however we may call out to our mothers, our relationship with her is always sweet.

Maybe mothers are more special because the bond with our mother begins nine months before our birth. This revelation dawns on most women when they themselves become mothers.
For me too it was no different. I still remember the day when I was able to see the foetus growing in my womb. Faceless, bodyless, yet a part of my own being. Technology has made things so much easy for modern day mothers. It is possible for them to keep track of every single development of their child.
I can never forget the day I saw the spinal cord of my baby during the course of a sonography. I have never felt so excited as I felt then. It was the most beautiful image I have ever seen, straight , clear, every segment, delicate yet strong. After all, this was the path of our reflexes and thoughts going to our brain. All at once then, I had been enveloped in so many emotions which included gratitude to God, a feeling of wonderment at his creations, a sense of belonging to the bundle of joy that was growing in me. I could barely contain my joy. My touch thereafter was transformed because everytime, I touched my stomach I started feeling one with my child. An inexplicable bond had been established.
It was therefore impossible for me to consider termination of my  pregnancy when during one such visit to my doctor it was announced that my foetus may not be normal. I was adviced to ascertain myself with further tests before taking the decision of going ahead with my pregnancy.  For me however, the  bond with my child as a mother had been established and there was no looking back. Maybe that soft and tender feeling of mothering my foetus gave me strength or my strong and innate belief in God that eventually all things would be alright made me hang on ! Till today I derive strength during my most difficult moments from that single source that everything happens for the good. Without any doubt, motherhood with all it's challenges became possible due to the constant support of my family.
Just this morning, a senior colleague shared a powerful image with me — a mother working as a labourer, carrying bricks with quiet resilience, her baby tied to her back in a cloth sling along with a gentle smile on her face. That image stayed with me. It reminded me of another powerful image, Rani Lakshmi Bai charging into battle during the First War of Indian Independence in 1857, with her infant son strapped to her back. From then to now, not much has changed. The forms may differ, but the weight of bricks, of responsibilities or of an empire’s expectations still rests on a mother’s back.
Maybe it is deeply ingrained in the gender roles of the society. Or maybe it's a mother's innate strength, her boundless warmth, that makes her carry on unflinchingly.  But the truth remains that the burden of raising a child still falls largely on her shoulders.
Modern mothers whether in boardrooms, offices or construction sites  often carry a heavy, invisible weight: guilt. The guilt of not being enough, of missing out, of not ticking every box. Workplaces aren’t always kind nor homes always supportive. And so, while we celebrate the "supermom," we forget the human behind the image.
Even today, in all villages women work in the fields but are not counted as farmers. They shoulder responsibility in offices but are denied recognition. The glass ceiling may have been broken, but the walls are still high.
So, Mother's Day shouldn't be just a one-day celebration of sentimental  posts on social media or fancy cards and wishes. It should be a reminder  that mother is not a martyr by default. She is a woman first and a human being with dreams of her own. She deserves to grow, to be heard, to be supported. And that growth needs a collective will,  from families, from partners, from society.
My own mother didn’t speak in lofty quotes or grand philosophies but was always there like the steady light of a lighthouse, quietly guiding, always giving. I remember her pawning her gold without a second thought whenever money was needed for my brother’s education, for a wedding or for any of us. That’s the kind of love that builds nations. Silent, invisible, and unshakably strong.
But here’s the bitter truth too that the same society which glorifies mothers often fails the very women who become them. The wife, the sister, the daughter-in-law are too often disrespected, joked about, dismissed, or worse, subjected to violence or molested and raped. In those moments, motherhood doesn’t shield or protect her. The very tenderness that defines her is forgotten.
If we want to truly honour motherhood, we must teach our sons and daughters to respect women. Not just their own mothers, but every woman they meet. Because behind every mother is a woman who deserves dignity. That, more than anything, will be the real tribute.
This Mother’s Day, let’s dream not of a perfect world, but of a fair amd equitable one. Let’s work toward a society where motherhood is not a burden carried in silence, but a role celebrated with equal partnerships, shared responsibilities, and boundless respect.
Let’s promise this not just for our mothers, but for ourselves.

R. Vimala, IAS,

Compassionate Bureaucrat & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay