More Than a Day: A Reflection on Mothers and Our Changing Bonds

Today is Mother’s Day. Many of us will meet our mothers if they live apart, or spend a little more time with them if they live together. Some of us will bring flowers and gifts. And for those whose mothers have departed, a gentle and grateful memory will rise like incense in the heart. Irrespective of its origin, any occasion to remember mothers and acknowledge their role in our lives is not only welcome—it is deeply necessary.
A Day of Remembrance and Reverence
In India, as in many other cultures, honouring mothers is not confined to a single day. It is a part of the rhythm of life, embedded in everyday actions and speech. And yet, these deep-rooted traditions seem increasingly under siege—challenged by the relentless pace of modernity and a culture of individualism.
Respecting and loving one’s mother was once a continuous act, woven into the family fabric. Now, it risks being reduced to rituals, ceremonies, and calendar dates. What was once a sacred, daily expression now finds itself diluted by display—visible, yes, but somehow less visceral.
The Birth of a Modern Day
The idea of Mother's Day is ancient. In Greece and Rome, festivals were held in honour of goddesses like Rhea and Cybele. But those were acts of worship, not personal tributes to human mothers. In medieval Europe, particularly in the UK, “Mothering Sunday” emerged.It began as a religious return to one’s ‘mother church’ during Lent, but gradually became more familial, as servants were given a rare day off to visit their mothers. The modern celebration we know today was born from grief. Anna Jarvis, mourning her mother’s death in 1905, conceived Mother's Day as a way of honouring the selfless love and lifelong sacrifice of mothers. The first official celebration was held in 1908, and by 1914, it became a national holiday in the United States.
But irony quickly followed intention. Within years, Jarvis saw her vision hijacked by commerce—and spent the rest of her life campaigning against the very celebration she had created. Love Versus the Marketplace Jarvis had imagined a day of quiet, personal reflection. Instead, it became a retail bonanza—greeting cards, flowers, packaged emotions. She called it a "profiteering perversion."
This tension between sentiment and commerce still exists. When we outsource our feelings to readymade gifts or annual brunches, something sacred is lost. And yet, not all is hollow. Many still use this day to sit beside their mothers, to cook with them, to write them letters, or simply hold their hands a little longer.
Ways to Reclaim Meaning
How do we restore the soul of this day? Perhaps by making it simpler. A handmade card. A walk together. A favourite dish cooked in shared silence. Maybe just a few quiet hours where she needn’t do anything at all. Some honour their mothers by doing something she cared about—planting a tree, helping someone in need, donating to a cause she loved. Love can take many forms; but all require presence.
Honouring in Absence
For those whose mothers are gone, the day may bring ache instead of celebration. But it can still be meaningful Visiting her resting place. Playing her favourite music. Making the dish only she could perfect. Recalling her quirks and kindnesses with others who loved her. These small acts keep the bond alive. Death does not erase the mother within us.
Beyond the Calendar: A Way of Life
But a deeper question persists: if our connection with our mothers is so profound, why do so many end up neglected, even mistreated, in their final years? Why do some mothers live out their days in silence, in old age homes, while their children pursue fuller lives?
What explains this dissonance?
Is the bond only biological—meant to fade with age and independence? Or is there something spiritual, even sacred, that we are slowly forgetting? Perhaps, we need to relearn what we once knew intuitively: that gratitude is not episodic. That reverence is not performative. That the debt we owe our mothers is not repayable in gifts, but in the manner we live, love, and remember.
In the end, a mother does not count the hours she gave or the dreams she set aside—only the quiet joy of having loved. Let us not relegate that love to a single day or symbolic gesture. For those who still can, let each moment with her be a homecoming. And for those who cannot, let eachremembrance be a whisper of gratitude. Beyond the bouquets and rituals, may we return to the essence: a bond that asks for no reward, only recognition. Let Mother’s Day not be a singular event, but a reminder of something older and deeper: that we are shaped not just by our mothers, but by how we care for them in return. Not once a year. But always.

(Uday Kumar Varma is an IAS officer. Retired as Secretary, Ministry of Information & Broadcasting)