Today, I celebrate the birthday of an extraordinary soul — my mother, Brinda Kumari. Born on 24th March 1940, she was a woman of immense strength, resilience, and boundless love. Her journey was never an easy one, yet she walked through life with grace, compassion, and an unwavering commitment to uplifting those around her.

She lost her father at an early age, a cruel twist of fate that forced her to shoulder responsibilities beyond her years. She supported her two younger siblings, becoming their pillar of support when life had stripped her of hers. Despite these hardships, she excelled academically, and her dedication led her to secure a teaching job at the tender age of 16. Determined to grow, she pursued her B.Ed while continuing to teach.

Life did not spare her from more grief. My younger brother, only 15 years old, was taken from us due to meningitis fever. The loss was devastating, yet she bore it with quiet strength, holding the family together when we needed her the most. She transformed her pain into purpose, finding solace in helping others, a lesson she lived every single day.

When I moved to the UK, my mother joined me after my father’s passing in 1997. It was then that I truly saw the magic she carried within her. Despite being in a foreign land and with limited English speaking skill, she built deep, meaningful relationships almost effortlessly. Within a year, she became a beloved figure in our small Indian community, and people would come to our home just to take her to theirs or to the temple.

She had an innate ability to connect with people, very empathetic and always eager to help, especially those facing difficult times. She never hesitate even to interact with local people and used to communicate in her broken English. It made me clear the difference between communication and connection. The latter does not require any words.

Her life was a testament to the power of kindness and human connection. She understood that relationships thrived when nurtured with care and constant effort. She believed that by focusing on other’s happiness, one could lessen one’s own pain. This philosophy wasn’t just something she spoke about; she lived it every day.

Despite her selflessness, one struggle always remained — she found it difficult to spend money on herself. Growing up in scarcity left her with a deep-rooted insecurity about finances, a pattern that stayed with her throughout her life. At times, I felt frustrated and even got upset with her, but today, with a deeper understanding of how our early experiences shape our lifelong beliefs, I feel only compassion and seek forgiveness from her soul.

When I became a Brain Coach in 2017, I learned that our brain forms core programs by the age of seven, and we continue to live by them, even when our circumstances change. This insight helped me understand her relationship with money and approach things differently.

For instance, when we needed a full-time carer, she was reluctant due to the expense, even though I was covering the cost. To ease her concerns, I told her we had secured one for just Rs 7,500, while the actual cost was Rs 25,000. Understanding her deeply ingrained beliefs allowed me to support her in ways she could accept and develop compassion in situations that used to evoke frustration and anger in me.

Teaching was her greatest passion, and she never confined it to the classroom. She taught poor children, especially the children of maids and workers, ensuring that they had access to knowledge and opportunities. She touched many lives through her gift of education.

During Covid, she was all alone in Sahibabad, and we were deeply worried about her. However, our neighbours took exceptional care of her, and one family — whom I hadn’t even known until then — took it upon themselves to look after her. For over three months, they lovingly gave three meals every day even during peak Covid. This is a true testament to the deep bonds she had built with the people around her.

After Covid, her health declined, and Alka immediately brought her to the UK on 24th March 2021. It was incredibly courageous of Alka to travel with her during such uncertain times. This gave us the precious opportunity to spend time with her, and with care and support, her health also improved during the few months she stayed with us.

On 5th April 2022, she left her physical form, but her spirit remains alive in the countless lives she impacted.

Today, on her birthday, I celebrate her — not just as my mother, but as a beacon of love, wisdom, and boundless generosity. Her life teaches us that true wealth lies not in what we accumulate, but in the love and kindness we share with the world.

Lessons I Hold Close to My Heart

Today, I do not mourn her loss — I celebrate her life and try to apply the above lessons in my life.

I honour the soul who gave so much and asked for so little. Her presence may no longer be physical, but her love, wisdom, and spirit live on, not just within me, but in the countless lives she touched.

Happy Birthday, Mom. Your love and light continue to guide me every day.