Category: Eternal Love: A Mother’s Legacy

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy Personal Triumph

Her Light

There were many moments in my life when my belief system was shaken, and hope seemed like a distant flicker. In those moments, I always turned to Mumma. I would sit with my thoughts, reflecting on how she imparted so much strength to me—how she could find even a single ray of hope in the darkest of times, where I saw none.

Her unwavering faith in my potential carried me further than I could have imagined. Without it, I might have landed nowhere. Today, as I look at where I stand, I realize that it is because of her blessings and belief that my mind has been trained, my spirit strengthened, and my path illuminated.

I am still on my journey—far from the heights the universe envisions for me—but with every step, I strive not just for myself, but to honor her. Every achievement, every milestone, every small victory is a way to lift her higher, to make her pride and blessings shine even brighter through me.

A mother is a guiding light, and we are never too old to share our challenges and struggles with her. She is a ray of hope in the darkest moments, where everything else seems impossible. I once wondered if sharing more might have spared me some pain—but now I trust it was part of a larger plan, God’s way of preparing me and carrying forward what her presence had already begun in me.

This is my journey, and it is hers too. Through her faith, I have learned that even in darkness, there is light. And that light carries the power to shape our destiny—one step at a time.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

A Daughter’s Farewell – Heart, Love, Soul, and Devotion

A few months before her departure, during a conversation about death, she had told me something profound. She said that if one writes Ram with sandalwood 108 times on the body after death, the soul attains moksha and reaches Baikunth Lok. She shared that people in olden times believed and practiced this, but in today’s world, no one has the time or devotion to do it anymore. Her words etched themselves into my heart without me knowing why. I did not utter anything to her then but I made up my mind quite do that when time comes. But I had no hint that it would come so soon then.

Despite her critical illness, I prayed with every breath, but destiny had already written a different script. When I saw her body in the ICU, I couldn’t believe she was no longer there. For the first time in my life, I stood so close to death. It felt as if the ground beneath me collapsed, and my whole universe crumpled into pieces. In that moment, it felt as though the Lord had taken away my very reason for living in this realm. Also, it didn’t feel like a body—it felt like the remnant of a soul, her divinity—like a calm, an aura, or a sense of stillness.

I remembered her words and thought of arranging sandalwood to write Ram 108 times on her body. But my emotions, my love, and my devotion could not wait for hours. Instead of waiting for hours for her body to be discharged by the hospital, I longed to write with the depth of my soul—the purity of love I held for her—using the very fingers she once held, with the same love with which she had nurtured me. So, with trembling hands, I wrote Ram 108 times on her body—each stroke filled with love, prayers, and devotion, even as my heart shattered into pieces. Every ‘Ram’ was a prayer, every stroke a tear, every letter a surrender.

I stood firm, determined to perform all her rituals—even those traditionally reserved for a son in Hindu tradition—and my family, too, agreed, recognizing the depth of my love for her. In their acceptance, I felt the world acknowledging my bond and devotion towards her.

Later in the afternoon, while we were waiting for the insurance formalities to be cleared so we could take her body for the rituals, I got my cycle. I never believed in this tradition—in fact, I have always seen the cycle as purely biological. But for my Mumma’s upliftment and for her soul to rest in peace, I did not want to become an obstacle from the perspective of tradition.

Her body was fragile, covered with wounds and water was oozing out from her skin. Even in that fragile, wounded body, I saw the strength with which she had lived and loved. The hospital authorities did bandage most her body before releasing. I had witnessed her suffering so closely, but most people must have lost their senses—it was unbearable to see her in such a terrible condition.

As per Hindu tradition, I was not allowed to perform the ceremony, and in that moment, I realized something deeper: the Lord and my Mumma had already accepted my pure devotion and love.

In that moment, I knew, irrespective of my cycle, it was impossible to write with sandalwood on her body and with certainty: what I had done earlier—writing Ram 108 times with my own fingers, with love and prayer was accepted and truest of rituals already performed through these hands.

In that truth, I found peace—knowing the Lord and my Mumma had already accepted my devotion, that her soul had reached where it was meant to be, and that our bond would remain unbroken for eternity.

With every breath, I know—I’m on my way to the eternal Home, where Mumma waits, and love lives forever.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

Mother – The Highest Manifestation of the Divine

When my mother was ill, I picked up the Bhagavad Gita for the very first time and read it from beginning to end. The strongest message it gave me was this: the soul never dies. At that time, I did not know it was part of her plan — Krishna’s plan — to prepare me for what was to come.

Without warning, at an unexpected moment, she left this world. Looking back, I realize her departure was not just an ending but a divine teaching. Through her, Krishna made me live the truth of the Gita — that while the body perishes, the soul remains eternal.

She carried the weight of suffering her whole life, and even in her final weeks, it intensified to an unimaginable level. Only later did I understand — her suffering was not just hers. It was a lesson for me: to let go, to surrender, and to accept the eternal journey of the soul.

In those moments, I prayed that all the punya (merit) of my Gita reading be offered to her. My only wish on her departure was that she never returns to this realm again, for she deserves liberation forever. If it takes me countless births to balance her share of suffering, I am ready. Her story, if ever written, must be told as the story of a Goddess — for she was nothing less.

And then a deeper realization arises within me: perhaps it was Krishna Himself who had taken form as my mother, untouched by the bonds of this earthly plane. She must already be liberated, already merged into Krishna — the all-pervading, eternal presence.

Today, I breathe with this prayer: My breath is to her, from her, and for her. I ask the Almighty — give me pain, give me suffering beyond imagination if needed, but never let her endure another life of struggle.

Her life was my scripture. It taught me that while the body perishes, love does not. While grief shatters us, surrender heals us. And while we mourn loss, the soul journeys onward — free, eternal, untouched.

Every mother is that divine manifestation — higher than the Lord Himself, as even the scriptures remind us. Through her, I have seen the eternal truth: Mother is the purest form of God, and her love is the closest reflection of eternity.

Her liberation is my prayer.
And every breath I take is her legacy.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy Krishna's Devotee!!! Personal Triumph

The Last Scene I Wish to Carry in My Heart

As I journey deeper into awareness, I realize one eternal truth — everything in this world is an illusion. All relationships are fleeting shadows. Yet, amidst this great illusion, there is one bond in human form that shines with unmatched love and light, guiding us unfailingly towards the Divine — the bond with Mother.

Even the father’s love is profound, but it is the mother’s embrace, her sacrifices, her unconditional grace that is supreme. In her, I see the living altar of divinity.

Before I leave this world — before I transcend this illusion — the last scene I wish to hold in my heart is this:

My mother as Anjani Mata, myself as Hanuman Ji, and before her stands Lord Ram. As per the sacred katha, Lord Ram, the very embodiment of dharma, bows before Anjani Mata with folded hands and says:

“Dhanya, dhanya ho Anjani Mata,
jinhone aise Lal ko janm diya.”

Blessed indeed is Anjani Mata, who gave birth to such a son.

For me, Krishna is everything — the all-pervading presence. But in my heart, when I live this scene, I see Him not just as the Creator, but as the Lord of love, the eternal guide of the soul. In that divine vision, the Lord Himself bows at my mother’s lotus feet, honoring her love, her sacrifices, and her nurturing presence that shaped me into who I am.

Sometimes, I even meditate on this very scene — as if rehearsing my final moment as a human. Each time, it draws me into a transcendent state, where tears of gratitude and devotion flow. In that stillness, I feel an immense motivation: to be good, to do good, and to live in service.

And so, in my final breath, I pray that the last image I carry is of this divine scene:

My mother, radiant as Anjani Mata.

Myself, ever her Hanuman, forever in her service.

And the Lord Himself — as Krishna, the Creator — bowing in reverence at her lotus feet.

For in truth, to be born of such a mother is itself God’s greatest blessing.
And the feet of the mother will forever remain the first temple where Divinity dwells.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

Divine Will and a Mother’s Eternal Love: A Journey of Faith, Pain, and Gratitude

Nothing happens against the will of God.

The Lord gave me indications—not just once but multiple times.

In 2019, I was so homesick while working in Hyderabad that I left my job and returned home without any other opportunity lined up. I didn’t know then that this decision was part of a divine plan. For the last few years, I watched you, Mumma, suffer day and night. In the year leading up to your departure, your unconditional love and immense suffering consumed my every thought.

Despite the pain and the terrible side effects of the steroids you had been on for years, you never stopped pouring love upon me or teaching me profound wisdom. I remember those sleepless nights vividly—times when the world was at rest, and you struggled to sleep. I’d wake up in the middle of the night out of sheer fear to check if you were still breathing. Many nights, I lay awake, helpless, crying into my pillow, hiding my tears so you wouldn’t notice.

I wasn’t ready to lose you, Mumma. I don’t think I ever would have been ready. Perhaps my desire to hold on to you was selfish.

After Aunt passed away, my reality check deepened. I found it impossible to focus on work, overwhelmed by an urge to leave everything behind and spend all my time with you and Daddy—caring for you, serving you, and giving you every bit of love I could muster.

I used to hold a glass of water every day and imagine happy times—the three of us healthy and joyous together. The thought of losing you was unbearable. I knew friends who had lost a parent, and I always thought I wouldn’t survive if that happened to me. When the doctors discovered gallstones, I was terrified. They warned us that anesthesia wasn’t an option and that a sudden burst could be fatal.

I prayed relentlessly for years, asking God for more time with you. I longed to see you celebrate 50 years of marriage with Daddy—a dream that came true. But I also wanted to find you a son-in-law and surprise you on your anniversary. I failed at that, Mumma. I struggled to make that dream come true, and it weighs heavily on me.

The Divine Indications I Missed

In those days before your health deteriorated, you gave me signs, but I didn’t want to see them for what they were.

  • You asked Daddy to give me holy water after the Hanuman Chalisa every day. I came to you crying, asking why you’d told him to do it instead of doing it yourself.
  • I saw you laughing one last time—a joyous, carefree laugh that reminded me of Naniji(Grandmother). She too had laughed like that shortly before her passing.
  • I stumbled upon an online horoscope that mentioned severe illness in the family.
  • Multiple social media posts about mothers passing away appeared before me, haunting my thoughts.
  • I read an article stating that the first thing a person loses near death is their sense of taste. I saw you struggle with mouth ulcers and affirmed to myself, “This is not the time; Mumma will live a long life.”

I clung to denial.

On the ventilator, you asked me to consider Lord Krishna as my Guru. You had always worshipped Lord Krishna and Balaji, and in that moment, it became clear: Krishna is my Lord, and you are my personal Guru.

Today, I find solace in knowing that you are free from pain and suffering, resting in peace in Baikunth Lok.

Gurve Namah! 🙏🙏🙏

Your eternal love, teachings, and connection to the divine will guide me for the rest of my life. You, Daddy, and Lord Krishna are One in my heart.

My heart is full of love and gratitude for you. Always. ❤️

Thank you for everything. 🙏

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

Whispers of the Divine: A Mother’s Love Across Realms

They say you embarked on a new journey to a heavenly abode, but to me, you have always transcended human form, even while you walked this earth. Your extraordinary ability to read my mind and see into my heart was a rare gift. Despite the generational divide, you understood me in ways that no one else ever could. It felt as though you lived in my soul, grasping every nuance and detail far beyond what those my age could ever comprehend.

Your prayers and boundless love—both maternal and divine—made the impossible possible. They shaped my very belief system, instilling in me a faith that continues to guide me today. When life overwhelmed me, simply placing my head beneath your veil wiped away my pain, allowing me to find solace in your presence. You were my refuge.

Like the nurturing arms of Mother Nature, you allowed me to thrive under your care. Even when I faltered or neglected my responsibilities, much like how we often take our planet for granted, you forgave me without hesitation. You continued to give, as only a mother could. I slept in your protection and awakened each day wrapped in the warmth of your love. Not a single moment passes without feeling your protective shield around me—in every breath I take and every stirring of my heart. The sheer ehsaas of you lingers in the air, reminding me of the goddess you always were.

Worshipping Ma Durga brings me back to you—the way your love, care, and blessings empowered me to face my inner demons. It was your nurturing spirit that helped me conquer my shortcomings, allowing me to focus on the strength you always recognized in me.

When I invoke Ma Laxmi, I remember the abundance you blessed me with—not just in material wealth, but in spiritual prosperity and self-knowledge, guiding me toward liberation. You opened my eyes to the riches within, treasures I carry with me every day.

And then there’s Ma Saraswati—she brings back the peace I felt in your presence, the serenity found in the safety of your veil. You awakened a power in me that I didn’t know I possessed, the limitless potential that fuels my journey.

Ma Saraswati also reminds me of that bittersweet moment when the world outside bid farewell to her idol while I was bidding farewell to you, as you left this realm during your cremation ceremony.

It wasn’t mere coincidence; life has no random acts. There was a deeper synchronicity at play, as if the universe mirrored my grief, reminding me that just like the goddess you were, you will always be a part of me.

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched—they must be felt with the heart.” – Helen Keller

You are my eternal guide, my divine mother, and in every breath, I carry your essence with me, forever intertwined.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

Adversity to Triumph : Mother’s Enduring Love

As I reflect on my life and the profound impact my mother had on it, I am overwhelmed by a mix of grief, gratitude, and awe. Today, I want to share a story that’s etched deeply in my heart—one that speaks of resilience, sacrifice, and an enduring bond that defied all odds.

On my very first birthday, my mother was in the hospital undergoing a crucial operation. Despite her own suffering and the uncertain future, she ensured that I wore a new dress for my special day. It wasn’t just a dress—it was a symbol of her undying love and her refusal to let her own trials overshadow my joy. Given the circumstances, she understood there might be no one else to celebrate my birthday at home. It was a gesture of hope and defiance against the adversity that surrounded us.

From the moment I came into this world, my mother’s life was marked by hardships. My grandmother had initially rejected me because I was not the grandson she had hoped for. Such rejection could have been a blow to anyone’s spirit, but my mother faced it with an unbreakable resolve.

Soon after my birth, I fell gravely ill. Doctors gave up hope, stating that my survival was unlikely. Yet, my mother’s faith never wavered. She clung to hope with a tenacity that seemed almost supernatural. She prayed fervently, undertook austerities, and observed fasts, never giving up on me, even when the medical community had written me off.

The Lord had a plan, and that plan was to give us years together that we would come to cherish. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have been raised by the strongest woman in the universe—a woman who, despite the rejections and adversities, embraced me with a mother’s love and dedicated her life to my well-being. She sacrificed her comfort, her health, and her own dreams to provide me with education, nourishment, and the values that shaped me.

For 38 years, my mother endured unimaginable suffering and torment. It was only in July 2010 that our lives began to shift dramatically. I remember walking out of our home with the thrilling news of securing a job at PwC, a job that promised a salary that was merely a dream. Her astonishment and joy were palpable. “Really?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief and pride. That evening marked the beginning of a new chapter for us, a period of gradual improvement and transformation in our lives.

Yet, as I now grapple with the pain of her loss, the last 38 days of her life resonate with an almost unbearable intensity. Her final days were marked by immense suffering. On a ventilator, with her legs and hands restrained, her body was swelling and oozing—each detail of her condition a vivid reminder of her torment. Despite her excruciating suffering, she was more concerned about the expenses of her treatment than her own pain. Her selflessness in those moments was a profound lesson in compassion.

In reflecting on her life, I am struck by a series of poignant coincidences. I was born on a Friday, and she departed on a Friday. I came into this world on the 27th, and she left us on the 27th. These details, though small, seem to underscore the deep connection we shared.

In the end, I am left with a heart full of gratitude and sorrow, and a profound respect for the woman who, despite her own suffering, gave me everything.

Through everything, my mother taught me an invaluable lesson: Never lose hope. As long as there is life, there is hope. Her life was a testament to enduring strength and selfless love. The pain of losing her is immense, and the grief is profound, but the lessons she imparted continue to guide me. Her life was one of relentless courage, and her legacy is a beacon of hope that will forever light my path.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

True Meaning of Raksha Bandhan: Love, Protection, and Spirituality

Raksha Bandhan celebrates the bond between brothers and sisters, with a sister tying a thread on her brother’s wrist to symbolize her love and his promise to protect her.

Today, the festival has broadened to honour various sibling-like relationships, including cousins and close friends, highlighting mutual respect and support.

I have two older sisters and no brothers. My mother once shared a story with me that has stayed with me ever since. She told me about a little girl with no biological brother.

While returning from school on rainy days, her friends were often accompanied home by their brothers usually, leaving this little girl feeling left out since she had no brother. Her mother noticed the sadness on her face and, upon learning the reason for her distress, reassured her. She told her that whenever she felt the absence of a brother, she could call upon Laddu Bhaiya (Lord Krishna), and he would be there for her.

On another rainy day, recalling her mother’s comforting words, she called out, “Laddu Bhaiya, come to me!” To her amazement, a boy appeared and walked with her all the way home. From that day forward, Lord Krishna did come to rescue her every time she called him.

My mother instilled the values of spirituality in us since childhood. She encouraged us to tie threads around the wrist of Ladoo Gopal idol before tying them on our cousins.

Throughout my journey, I met many people who called themselves my brother, and for a while, we shared a bond. However, each of these relationships eventually became a source of disappointment and pain. I realized that in choosing these individuals over my spiritual connection with Lord Krishna, I had overlooked the true essence of Laddu Bhaiya’s protection and guidance. This painful experience taught me a valuable lesson: I was falling into the traps of the outside world and neglecting the enduring bond I had with the divine.

Ultimately, Raksha Bandhan is about cherishing protective and caring bonds that enrich our lives, reminding us to stand by each other through all of life’s challenges.

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

Raised by an Extraordinary Mother: A Year of Love and Healing

Dear Mumma,

It’s been a year since your departure from this realm, and I am still breathing—I did not fall apart. It’s not ordinary.

When Bajrang Bali visited me in a dream on the day you embarked on your eternal journey, it was not ordinary—an extraordinary blessing for me, as I honor you as an eternal being in human form and the creator of love and light in my life.

You introduced Lord Krishna as my Guru, and Krishna introduced you as my personal Guru on the day of your departure. It’s not ordinary.

I have remained sane and have consciously taken care of my mental and physical well-being. It’s not ordinary.

I stand upright where the mind is without fear, head held high, and remain grounded in the roots of existence. It’s not ordinary.

In the face of adversity, I stay calm and hold on to hope without losing my temper. It’s not ordinary.

You visit me in dreams, blessing me consciously before even the tiniest events in my life. It’s not ordinary.

As a former bibliophobe, reading 16 books this past year and applying their teachings despite your absence is not ordinary.

Writing multiple blog posts about our experience, your eternal love, guidance, and blessings over the past year—it’s not ordinary.

Managing a home alongside a full-time job and reviving several passions I once cherished—it’s not ordinary.

Having a career that’s both rewarding and inspiring—it’s not ordinary.

Seeing my paintings, writings, and interviews featured in newsletters—it’s not ordinary.

Cultivating wisdom to deal with difficult people while maintaining peace of mind—it’s not ordinary.

Being seen as an epitome of strength by those around me—it’s not ordinary.

Attending a seminar by a spiritual master just a week after your cremation ceremony—it’s not ordinary.

Every achievement, reward, and recognition I’ve received this past year—both at work and in personal life—is not ordinary.

When someone who visited our home only a couple of times in the last decade stayed by us after your departure—it’s not ordinary.

When those who once claimed to be the “best ones” in my life withdrew, I did not miss them, nor did I feel lonely. It’s not ordinary.

Forgiving and showing compassion to those who tried to hurt or break you—it’s not ordinary.

Receiving miracles, guidance, and help in various aspects of life—it’s not ordinary.

Understanding with clarity that I am merely an instrument, and you are the Doer—it’s not ordinary.

When I have been raised and nurtured in the lap of an extraordinary mother, how could I live an ordinary life?

I feel your presence in every cell of my existence.
I feel your presence in every vein of my existence.
I feel your presence with every breath of my existence.

My entire universe lies at your lotus feet.
Your eternal love and blessings fuel my life.

With you by my side, I will leave no stone unturned and make you proud—until we meet again at our eternal home.

Love you, Gurve Namah!

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Eternal Love: A Mother's Legacy

I Thrive in Mumma’s Love: Journey of Strength and Support

Since your departure from this realm on January 27, 2023, I feel as though I have been reborn. It has been six months, and my life has changed forever. The deep-rooted nurturing and eternal love you provided have shaped my life even before I entered this world. Here are a few highlights:

Dear Mumma,

Since your departure from this realm on January 27, 2023, I feel as though I have been reborn. It has been six months, and my life has changed forever. The deep-rooted nurturing and eternal love you provided have shaped my life even before I entered this world. Here are a few highlights:

  • The strength to hold myself together.
  • The strength to face the material world.
  • The strength to stand by Dad and Didi.
  • The level of patience during obstacles.
  • The ability to manage responsibilities at home and daily chores while dedicating time to work.
  • The ability to work with focus and love on every project.
  • The ability to meditate every single day.
  • The passion for reading books and regular prayer.
  • The ability and desire to learn musical instruments, journal, and tend to my plants.
  • The compassion and empathy in the face of challenges.
  • The introduction of Nisha Mam into my life and my passion for learning Mudra and the application of the five elements.
  • The love and compassion that Preeti Mam showers on me, along with my first-ever reading partner.
  • The love and compassion I see in the eyes of relatives for whom I once held bitter feelings.
  • Beyond the support of maids, security personnel, the cook, neighbors, the Mudra group, the Sujok clinic, and work seniors, I experience love and compassion even from strangers—such as the Uber driver, rickshaw puller, or vendors.

This list is infinite and has no end.

You are the doer, and I am merely an instrument in your hands. My life is completely surrendered, and I choose to humbly live as guided. Everything that comes to me feels like a gift from you.

Sometimes people ask me to “pray to your mom for this or that,” and I feel conflicted. How can I explain that you have already showered me with so much, even without being asked? It makes me feel like I am committing a great crime, making me feel insignificant and embarrassed.

Mumma, I love you with all the quarks and gluons (the tiniest things in the universe according to material realms) of my existence. My only comfort and inspiration come from knowing that you are free from all pain and suffering, resting in peace, and one with our Lord.