Mother's Day 2025: Celebrating Motherhood Beyond Biology
You remember the movie Paa? Vidya Balan plays a single mother raising a child with a rare genetic disorder. She’s young, independent, unafraid and fiercely protective of her son, Auro. But what’s equally moving is the character of Auro’s grandmother, played by Arundhati Nag. She isn’t the child's biological parent, yet she's deeply present, watching over, cheering on, stepping in with quiet wisdom. Her role isn’t flashy, but it’s foundational. She mothered the mother, and in doing so, mothered the child too.
Cut to a real-life example—I remember a beauty parlour near my home in Delhi, run by a woman named Sumitraji. She had a granddaughter whom she raised as her daughter. The little girl called her “Ma,” unaware that she was her grandmother. Here, a Nani had stepped in as the mother.
Then there are older sisters raising younger siblings, single mothers mastering both roles, dance teachers who nurture like mothers, and teachers who quietly shape their students’ lives.
Motherhood often exists in these silent layers—in the grandmother, the guardian, the guide. Sometimes it doesn’t come with labour pains or baby showers, but with decisions, sacrifices, and deep emotional labour that rarely gets noticed.
This Mother’s Day, let’s celebrate the women who’ve taken on this role beyond biology.
Take Gauri Sawant, for instance—a transgender activist who adopted Gayatri, the orphaned daughter of a sex worker. Her story became known through a tear-jerking Vicks commercial, but it wasn’t fiction. She saw a child who needed a mother and became one, without waiting for anyone’s permission.
Or Sushmita Sen, who adopted her first daughter at just 24. Single, successful, and unafraid, she redefined what motherhood could look like in modern India. “They didn’t grow under my heart, but in it,” she once said.
Some single mothers carry this strength day after day. Madhu Gola, a homemaker, says, “As a single mother, I’m filled with a mix of emotions—pride, love, and sometimes, exhaustion. But my child’s smile, laughter, and ‘I love you, Mom’ make every struggle worth it. I’m their safe haven, and I’d give my all to ensure their happiness.”
Her son, Jatin Gola, who works at the Ministry of Labour & Employment, echoes the sentiment,“My heart swells with love and gratitude for my mother. She’s my rock and my hero. After losing my father during the Covid era, her strength helped me clear the toughest exams and land my dream job. I admire her resilience more than I can ever express.”
Then there’s Sunita, a domestic worker in Mumbai who has raised four children from the families she works for. She knows their allergies, moods, and timetables. She’s not in the family portraits, but the children run into her arms first when they return from school.
In Chennai, there’s Sneha, who lost her sister and now raises her nephew with her partner Priya. “He calls us both Amma,” says Priya. “We co-parent him together, but only one of our names goes on school forms.” It’s a quiet reminder that love often exists outside traditional labels and recognition.
And sometimes, the role of a parent lands on someone unexpected. Shreya Johri, a media professional, doesn’t call herself a mother, but a parent. “I did not say I am the mother. I’m a parent doing that role,” she explains. When she lost her father at 21, her younger brother was only eight. Their mother, a homemaker, was consumed by grief. “When one parent passes, the other often fades too. And being a homemaker, that loss feels even heavier. So, the responsibility quietly shifts to the elder child—the one working, exposed to the world, assumed to be ready.” Over time, even the dynamics changed.
“In many Indian homes, this happens. Some days, I feel like I’m failing. Other days, his smile or stories remind me I’m doing something right,” she says.
“Now, I think I’m parenting my mother, too. She’s become very sensitive after everything. That’s what this journey is—part love, part duty, part growing up overnight.”
Then there are teachers—those second mothers in classrooms. Shalini Sharma, CEO and Founder of Hi Kalpaa Preschool, says, “An early years teacher is not just a teacher. We comfort crying kids, cheer their smallest victories, teach life skills, and hold space for big emotions. Like a mother, we see not just who they are now but who they’re becoming. That’s the magic of being a second mother in the classroom.”
There are situations when single fathers become both mother and father. Vijay Bhalla, 79, from Delhi, has raised his four children alone for nearly three decades. He still tutors and sells homemade pickles to provide for them.
Motherhood lives in the margins—between definitions and expectations, between titles and roles. It’s the aunt who raised you, the warden who protected you, the boss who backed you, the friend who parented your child when you couldn’t. It’s in mentorship, in guidance, in unconditional presence.
And it’s time we said it clearly: Not all mothers physically give birth to a child. However, all mothers—regardless of where they come from, who they love, or what they’re called—deserve to be seen.
This Mother’s Day, celebrate the woman who held you in your womb. But also remember the one who stepped in, quietly and consistently, when no one else did.
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