Slice of Life: The Quiet Strength of a Mother at 80

Dec 07, 2024

By Suvir Saran
New Delhi [India], December 7 : Some lives are like steady rivers--quiet, unassuming, yet profoundly transformative. They shape the landscapes they touch without noise or fanfare. My mother, Sunita Saran, who turns 80 on December 7th, is one such person. Her story is deeply personal yet universally inspiring, a testament to courage, resilience, and the power of love in a world that has changed drastically since her youth.
In the 1960s, in an India where tradition was unyielding, love marriages were virtually unheard of, and out-of-caste unions were taboo. Yet, in the midst of this cultural rigidity, my parents broke convention. My mother married my father, Guru Saran, in a love marriage--a bold, almost unthinkable step for that time. Their love story was not loud or rebellious, but it was quietly revolutionary. It was a union of mutual respect and understanding, rooted in a shared vision for the future, and it became the foundation of our family.
When Mom entered my father's family, she found herself in a traditional joint household where her in-laws ran the home. It was a world far removed from her own upbringing, where her education and independence were encouraged. Yet, she adapted with grace, learning to navigate this new world without losing her identity. She embodied the delicate balance of honoring tradition while staying true to herself--a feat that required not just patience but immense inner strength.
Her relationship with my father was a partnership in the truest sense of the word. She supported him unconditionally, managing the home with quiet efficiency so he could focus on his work and ambitions. But Mom's life was far from confined to the role of a homemaker. In a time when many women of her background were not expected to work or pursue intellectual interests, she kept herself engaged. She scored exams, recorded books on tape for the visually impaired, and continuously educated herself. Her thirst for knowledge was insatiable, and she instilled the same curiosity and discipline in her children.
As a mother to my siblings, Seema and Samir, and me, Mom was a force of nature. She indulged each of us in our individual ways, nurturing our interests while also teaching us resilience and self-reliance. Her love was not overly sentimental, but it was unwavering. She wasn't one to shower us with compliments or outward displays of affection, but her actions spoke volumes. She created a home that was both a sanctuary and a springboard--a place where we felt safe to dream and grow.
When my father passed away at 67, Mom was 66. It was the first time in decades that she found herself alone, and it was a seismic shift in her life. The role of wife and companion, which had defined so much of her world, was suddenly gone. Yet, she did not falter. She faced her grief with quiet courage, leaning into her independence and finding new ways to fill her days with purpose.
Her strength became even more evident when I fell gravely ill at the age of 44. At 74, Mom stepped in to care for me as if I were an infant. She managed my recovery with the same calm, steady hand she has always shown, never once allowing the weight of the situation to overwhelm her. That period revealed to me not just her capacity for love, but her extraordinary resilience.
Today, Mom continues to be the center of our family, the thread that ties generations together. She travels annually to New York to visit my sister Seema and her husband, Ajit. Back in Delhi, she shares her home with her grandson, Karun, striving to be the "cool" grandmother who engages him with wit and wisdom. She gardens, knits, and even takes music lessons, finding joy in activities that keep her spirit young.
Her caregiving extends far beyond her immediate family. Whether running errands for older relatives, offering advice to younger ones, or simply being a dependable friend, Mom is a resource for all who need her. She has a way of making herself indispensable without ever imposing--a quality that feels almost magical in its balance.
What sets her apart is her unshakable sense of gratitude and groundedness. She has been a student of the Gita, the Vedas, and the Upanishads for 40 years, and her spiritual practice informs every aspect of her life. She has always been at peace in her own company, finding strength in solitude and purpose in her daily routines.
Even in her interactions with strangers, Mom's generosity shines through. She never bargains with street vendors or questions their prices, understanding the privilege of her comfortable life. To her, these small acts of respect and fairness are ways to honor the dignity of others--a philosophy that has deeply influenced me and my siblings.
Yet, for all her practicality, Mom is a woman of great elegance. She has never worried about her greying hair or fretted over appearances, but her natural beauty once inspired the late designer Rohit Bal, who called her his muse. He had planned to dance the night away at her 80th birthday celebration, but his untimely passing earlier this year reminds us of how fleeting life is and how vital it is to celebrate those we love while they are with us.
Mom's relationships are a testament to the bonds she has nurtured over the years. My father's cousins became her sisters, and they continue to travel and share their lives together even decades after his passing. These connections are not just familial but deeply personal, built on trust, love, and shared experiences.
For all her accomplishments, what I admire most about Mom is her quiet strength. She has faced life's challenges--from the early days of navigating a traditional family as an educated, modern woman, to the loss of her partner and the responsibilities of aging--with grace and dignity. She has taught us that strength is not in loud declarations but in steady perseverance.
Her lessons extend beyond our family. Her life reminds us of the power of gratitude, the importance of giving back, and the beauty of finding joy in the small, everyday things. She shows us that a meaningful life is not measured by accolades or possessions but by the love you give, the people you inspire, and the legacy of kindness you leave behind.
As Mom turns 80, we celebrate not just her years but the incredible woman she is. She has been a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and a friend--but above all, she has been a beacon of strength and love for everyone who knows her.
Happy birthday, Mom. You are the heart of our family, the light that guides us, and the inspiration we carry forward. May this next chapter be as beautiful as the ones you have already written. We love you endlessly.
Disclaimer: Suvir Saran is an author, columnist and Chef. The views expressed in this column are his own.