What if my mom ran my business?

My mother didn’t go to an office or sit in meetings. She didn’t pitch to clients or write about brands like I do. But every day, she ran a full-time operation, our home.

Growing up, I didn’t know the words for what she was doing. I just knew she was always doing everything. She raised two kids, helped us with school work that turned into full-blown art projects, managed the house expenses down to the last rupee, maintained family relationships like a diplomat, and altered my clothes to fit me better, without ever asking for help. She had no assistants, no breaks, and definitely no weekends off. But somehow, she never made it feel like work.

Now, as someone who covers the advertising and marketing world, I think about how much of what I do, listening carefully, asking the right questions, telling stories with nuance, she’s been doing all her life. She didn’t need media training to read between the lines or a fancy title to get people to talk. She just knew people. She remembered things others missed. And she always, always followed through.

If she were in my role, reporting on the industry, she’d probably bring a tiffin to every interview and walk away with a better story than I could. Her version of journalism would be deeply human, equal parts instinct and empathy. She wouldn’t just meet deadlines. She’d meet people where they are. And somewhere in between, she’d still find time to remind you you’re not drinking enough water.

But here’s the thing. If she had been given the opportunities I’ve had, the education, the access, the room to dream out loud, the opportunity to fail and rebuild myself, not have responsibilities that tied me down, there’s no doubt in my mind, she would’ve soared. She would’ve been not just good at my job, but better. Bolder. Unapologetically brilliant.

But she didn’t get that shot. And, she didn’t even ask for it.

Because somewhere along the way, like so many women of her generation, she learned that her dreams had to take a step back to make room for mine. That her time, her wants, her ambitions, they didn’t come first. She crushed them quietly. Packed them away without ever making it a big deal. So I could move forward. So I could dream big.

She made the trade that too many mothers are still forced to make.

And not much has changed since. A survey that was done last year revealed that 48% of working women don’t return to their jobs after maternity leave. And it’s not because they don’t want to, it’s because the system isn’t built to let them come back. The ‘motherhood penalty’ is real. It stalls careers, shrinks paychecks, and erases potential before it’s even seen.

So this Mother’s Day, we asked agency founders to imagine a world where their moms were the ones in charge. We asked them to imagine their lives full of possibilities and dreams. 

The answers were heartfelt, hilarious and deeply revealing of the kind of leadership we often take for granted. Because behind every campaign we launch, every deadline we chase, there’s often a mother who made herself smaller so we could grow.

Before we had mentors or managers, we had moms. They’ve always known how to lead; the world just didn’t always let them.

Aalap Desai, CCO and Co-Founder, tgthr.

 

I have learnt many managerial principles by observing my mom. I think that if she ran our agency, we would be more efficient, less faffy and fed on time. All critical things if I may add. 

I think she would nail difficult conversations. My mom has a knack for making people feel comfortable about the most uncomfortable things and still discussing them. You don't walk away bothered; you relax and walk away with a solution.

Her version of leadership would be empathetic yet result-oriented leadership is a rare mix that's very difficult to manage. She would be that.

Rashi Ray, Director, Response India

 

Devika Ray - better known as Hashi, mother of Rashi!

If Devika Ray was Response’s founder, which she pretty much has been by being our biggest supporter, cheerleader and critic. First, for my father, Ram Ray, the Founder of Response India, and now for me, the carrier of the foundation.

My mother is a very creative person. Possibly always the most entertaining person in a room. She has a quiet kind of intelligence, a combination of great instincts and empathy. 

If she took over running Response, which I don’t think she would ever agree to, it would be a very fun, more inclusive, more unusual business. She may not choose to be in Advertising altogether. Would definitely pivot to something we can’t yet imagine.

She has a childlike innocence view on things, and that would make colleagues warm up to her easily. In comparison to me, she’s a more fun and approachable leader.

Our pantry would become a super hit. Would find an interesting combination of snacks for everyone.

Her views on life are very motivating. She thinks we’re winners. Something that she has instilled in me since childhood. She never feels the need to please anyone or be in a position to compromise one’s values. For instance, if it comes to a pitch, she wouldn’t ever feel the need to. She thinks we are already winners and no need to pitch at all! That’s probably why none of us actually ever agree to a pitch.

She’s a people’s person. She has friends from 8 to 80. Our agency would have an ever-wider, more eclectic mix of people. It would feel like a party every day.

She’s a very good Bengali writer. Not one of my strengths as a creative person.
She has a beautiful command of the language and writes very simply, making her writing very relevant. She chooses the words that are a pleasure to read. Once in a while, her writing has a sense of humour that will crack you up and make you feel at ease at the same time.

My mother is a very straightforward person, open and transparent. She says very difficult things in a nice and warm way. Even if she criticises, you wouldn’t feel too bad. She’s humorous and can lighten anyone’s mood with her gems. We call her one-liners gems. She brings warmth into every room that she walks into, and her kind, caring personality comes through in everything she does.

Samir Asher, Founder & COO, Tonic Worldwide

 

If my mom ran Tonic, everyone would be full, happy and tight around their waist. Also, the pantry would need its own P&L. Simply because she’s the best cook, I know, and no one escapes her kitchen without a second serving. The pantry would be better stocked than our media plan, and somehow, we’d all meet deadlines between chai breaks and “beta, have you eaten?” reminders. I say this as a proud mama’s boy. She’s already been running a high-performance unit for decades. We just called it home.

She would absolutely nail the stuff I still grapple with, like knowing when someone needs a push vs a pause. Her emotional intelligence is unreal. She can sense tension before anyone says a word, and defuse it with a look, a snack, or a perfectly timed “what’s going on?” What I really admire is how she’s got the slow and steady approach to life. I’m usually the ‘let’s fix this right now’ type. She’s the one who shows me that sometimes, just holding space is more powerful than jumping in to solve everything.

She’s proof that leadership isn’t always loud, intentional. I run a company. She runs a family. And every day, I realise both require the same things: clarity, care, and the ability to stay steady when things get messy.

No fuss. No spotlight. Just rock-solid reliability. That’s the kind of COO she’s always been at home. I’m just trying to catch up.

Shriya Seshadri, Founder and Creative Director at SummerOwl Studio

 

If my mother had founded Summer Owl Studio, we'd probably be twice as successful and ten times more well-fed. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t back down from a challenge – the tougher the brief, the brighter she shines!  We'd have a company that balances heart with hard work, kindness with killer instinct, and a lot more coffee breaks, for sure. If she took over it today, she’d run a tight ship with a side of hugs and hustle.

And the impact wouldn’t stop at leadership style. We'd be a masterclass in empathy-led leadership. She’d know exactly who needs a push, who needs a pause, and who just needs a talk. Efficiency would be instinctual, morale would be high, and no one would dare miss a deadline!

Pitches would begin with a pep talk (with a silent prayer, of course) that somehow doubles as life advice, and that definitely involves an anecdote. The kind that makes you sit straighter, believe harder, and present like your deck just solved world peace. 

Sushant Sadamate, COO & Co-founder of Buzzlab

 

If my mom, Sheetal Sadamate, had founded Buzzlab, we’d probably be the only agency that closes deals over a plate of bombil fry and sol kadhi. Client retention would hit 100% — because who says no to someone who can serve strategy and mutton rassa with equal finesse? If she took over today, I'd probably be demoted to intern and asked to “just help around and not touch anything too technical.”

Our agency would be more empathetic, more efficient, but especially have more snacks. The pantry would have tiffins stacked like a dabba delivery service: chicken sukka on Tuesdays, puran polis on Fridays, and surprise sheera when someone's feeling low. Empathy levels would skyrocket — we’d all get “nimbu-paani and life advice” whenever a campaign flopped.

Pitches would begin with a prayer, a pep talk, and a passive-aggressive comment about your haircut — in that exact order. First, she'd light an agarbatti near the laptop. Then she'd say, “Just be yourself, beta, but also don’t talk too much.” And finally, right before the pitch starts: “You’re presenting in that shirt? Hmm. Okay, your choice.”

Picture this: Kolhapuri chappals at the door, a tulsi plant in the corner, and a faint aroma of tadka floating through the office. The vibe would be a mix of therapy sessions, food festival, and group projects led by the one aunty who always got things done. Deadlines would still be strict, but softened by the offer of second helpings.

She would nail decisiveness. While I’ll create 4 decks and still be unsure, she'd take one look and go, “Yeh wala thik hai, next!” Also, dealing with difficult people — she’s been handling moody uncles, sabziwallas, and teenagers for decades. Handling cranky clients? Child’s play.

Her leadership style would be a beautiful mash-up of “mi aahe na” energy and the efficiency of a seasoned wedding caterer. She’d lead with kindness, spice, and sarcasm. She believes in trust, loyalty, and making sure no one skips lunch — or lies about it. Also, every strategy meeting would end with Hasya Jatra reruns and a reminder that “Life is not that serious, ha!”

Tamanna Gupta, Founder, Umanshi Marketing

 

If My Mom Ran the Agency? Buckle Up.

Let’s just say “casual culture” would be the first thing out the door.

While she is a director at Umanshi and often weighs in on strategic decisions (read: nudges us toward more sensible business models), thank God she isn’t involved in day-to-day operations. Had she been the boss, we’d be operating like the Navy — but in designer sarees.

Here’s what Umanshi would look like in Mom Mode:

• Punctuality would be non-negotiable — no matter what time you wrapped up last night’s pitch deck. “You chose this life, now live it on time!”
• Not a penny would go untracked - Every rupee matters, every invoice chased like it’s personal. Frugality would be Umanshi’s core value.
• No letting go of any lead - “You can rest once the pipeline is dry. Which is... never.”
• Forget retainer anxiety — 100% advance, thank you.
• OCD Cleanliness - "If I can see dust under your desk, you’re clearly not busy enough
• Snacks? A buffet of rotating cuisines, because her way of living/ working is feeding others - pink pasta on Monday, aloo paratha on Tuesday, muthiya on Wednesday… we would end up wishing for 7 days working!
• Efficiency? She’d be the first to adopt new martech tools and the first to make us do tutorials.
• Sharp as a tack. She’d put two and two together faster than a forensic accountant — no bluff, no BS, no one slipping through unnoticed.

Would the agency be more empathetic? Maybe. 

More efficient? Absolutely. 

Better stocked pantry? Without a doubt.

Would we be more chilled out? Not even in our dreams.

Viren Sean Noronha, Co-founder & CEO, The New Thing 

 

If my mum ran TNT, I imagine it’d be exactly like she runs her home kitchen—hawk’s eye and eagle’s clutch on all workstreams. Military precision, zero tolerance for slack, and passive-aggressive feedback served hot. One eye peering over your shoulder at all times, constant check-ins and course corrections, and everyone eats lunch on time. She’d also ensure getting married before 30 was a KPI. What she would absolutely nail is radical honesty. She says the wrong right thing with such earnestness, it short-circuits your ability to get offended. Performance reviews would be swift, direct, and brutally fair. I’m a people pleaser by nature, so this becomes very hard for me to do naturally. Her version of leadership would be defined by extreme ownership, meets extreme overthinking, and meets extreme measures. Everything is either perfect or a disaster. She suffers from ‘bleeding heart’ syndrome, so she’d approve every leave request ever, but also lose sleep over why you’re sad. Basically: dictator energy, therapist heart.

 

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