There are moments in life when we pause and reflect on the people who’ve shaped us.
We often look to teachers, leaders, or great public figures for guidance, but for me, the most profound and enduring influence has always been one person: my mother, Pushap. It’s no accident that her name, which means “flower,” symbolizes the nurturing and beauty she brought into every corner of my life. But it’s also a quiet strength – one that made me who I am.
What my mother taught me didn’t come from textbooks, nor was it confined to grand speeches. It was in the small moments, the unspoken lessons, and the steadiness with which she moved through the world. She never measured my growth by the typical markers of success – results, titles, positions, or accolades. Instead, she cared about something deeper: the weight of my choices, the kindness in my voice, and whether I could sleep peacefully at night knowing I had done the right thing.
My mother’s definition of success was never about chasing recognition or winning the race at any cost. “The world will push you to win fast,” she’d say. “I want you to last.” Her version of success wasn’t flashy. It didn’t glitter; it glowed. It was slow, steady, values-led. A success built on resilience, integrity, and the kind of character that withstood the tests of time. In a world that so often celebrates quick wins and loud triumphs, my mother never chased the urgent at the expense of the important. Even when the world was loud and tempting, she reminded me – gently, and sometimes not so gently – that character comes before credentials, and dignity matters more than any deal. She wasn’t trying to build a résumé for me. She was building a compass in me. One that always pointed to values before valuation, to substance before style, to humility before hubris. It’s not that she didn’t care about success. It’s that she refused to let success arrive at the cost of character. And over the years, I’ve come to realize that her insistence on that simple truth was one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.
And still, she was no pushover. She was brave in the most human way possible: by continuing to show up, no matter what. When things were tough, when life was unfair, when illness or loss could’ve easily made her withdraw – she showed up. For her children, her family, her students, her colleagues. She didn’t need a stage. She made the everyday sacred. In those moments, she was more than just my mother; she was my architect, my coach, my mentor. The person whose quiet strength laid the foundation for my growth, not just professionally, but in every aspect of life.
In an age where mentorship, coaching, and leadership have become trends, where books written by ghostwriters masquerade as personal wisdom, I find myself regularly reminding myself of my mother’s unwavering guidance. She didn’t need to be celebrated publicly. She didn’t seek applause. She simply showed up and showed us the way. She is one of the core reasons I chose to teach in my life. I do so not for accolades, but because of what she instilled – that education is one of the purest ways to give something forward. It’s not about telling people what to think; it’s about helping them discover who they are.
My mother has been my strongest and most steadfast mentor, and the source of my deepest inspiration. In these present times, where much vies for our attention, I still return to the timeless lessons she gave me. Her impact wasn’t defined by fleeting moments but by the steady influence that, till this day, continues to guide my path. As I reflect on this Mother’s Day, as I have so many others, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have had such a force of nature in my life – to have her as my own, to call her my mom.
She led by presence, not performance. I watched how she cared for my grandparents — her in-laws, her own parents, anyone older than her – not out of obligation, but reverence. That quiet, constant honoring of her elders shaped something deep in me. It wasn’t a lesson in caregiving. It was a lesson in grace. It was about seeing the elderly not as remnants of the past, but as living bridges to wisdom, perspective, and grounding. She made dignity non-negotiable. She didn’t say “respect your elders” as a command; she modeled it as a rhythm.
And that rhythm lives on in me. It shows up in my deep belief in intergenerational harmony, in my desire to build systems where we don’t discard people as they age, and in my conviction that societies that forget their elders forget themselves.
She taught me to lead with integrity, to treat everyone with respect, and to always consider the long game. In my professional journey, when faced with hard decisions, it is often her voice I hear in the back of my mind – guiding me to think beyond the immediate and to focus on what really matters. She showed me that success is not a race but a journey, one that requires patience, commitment, and unwavering principles. She’s also the person whose stories stitched our family history into memory. With every tale, she taught us about resilience, belonging, and roots. In an era obsessed with reinvention, she reminded us that remembering matters too. That tradition isn’t the enemy of progress – it’s its foundation.
To my mother, and to all mothers who’ve quietly shaped us into who we are – a heartfelt thank you. As the often uncelebrated architects of not just homes but movements, enterprises, and lives of meaning. This is for you. You are the architects of our futures, the mentors who lead by example, and the coaches who show us that it’s not just about the destination, but the way we get there. You’ve made our worlds better, and for that, we owe you everything. You didn’t ask for permission to shape the world — you just did, every single day, through your presence, your choices, your labour, and your vision.
As we honor our mothers this day, let’s also acknowledge the extraordinary power they wield – both at home and in the world around us. They are not just the nurturers of families, but the guiding forces who shape the professionals, the leaders, and the change-makers of tomorrow. The world has been, and will always be, better for them.
We see you. Happy Mother’s Day!