THE ASIAN INDEPENDENT UK
By- Professor Manju Panwar,
Dept of Social Work, B.P S Women’s University,
First state women university in North India, Sonipat, Haryana
There are some people whose love becomes the anchor of an whole family. My mother, who recently lost her battle with cancer, was one such extraordinary soul. She was a woman of quiet strength, boundless compassion, and unwavering faith. She never sought recognition or applause, her world revolved around her family and her deep belief was that love, expressed through everyday acts of service, is life’s greatest achievement.
In a society particularly in parts of North India where the desire for a son often dominates family expectations, my mother was completely content with her two daughters. She never wished for a son, firmly believing that “daughters can do anything a son can.” My father who served in the Indian Economic Service (IES), also supported her and chose to invest heavily in my education.
My mother’s vision was the reason I chose the path of social work. I still vividly recall the day she accompanied me to the Delhi School of Social Work at Delhi University, one of the premier institutions of social work in India . Worried about the financial burden, I asked her how much money was being spent on my education. Without a second thought, she gently counselled me:
“Do not worry about the fees. All this hard work will pay off the day you land your job.”
Her words rang true when I secured my first job offer while still appearing for my final year Master’s examinations.
Though she was uneducated but her progressive mind was not just limited to our home, she carried it wherever she went. Because my father is deeply active in social work, she often joined him at national and international gatherings. Once, while addressing a large gathering of women at an awareness programme, she noticed many women sitting under heavy veils (ghunghat). She spoke to them directly, leaving behind a phrase that resonated deeply:
“Sharam aankhon mein hoti hai, ghunghat mein nahi.” (True modesty resides in one’s eyes and character, not behind a veil.)
She longed to see women step out from behind their veils and actively participate in building the nation. At the same time, she was deeply aware of changing societal norms. She often reflected on how, in her youth, seeing a group of men while walking in public brought a comforting sense of safety—a feeling that someone was there to protect women in rural communities. She grieved how time had changed that now there is sense of apprehension, reminding us how critical it is to rebuild society’s moral fabric.
For my mother, true wealth lay in integrity and helping others without expecting anything in return. She lived by a simple mantra: “Keep your karma clean. Do your duty and surrender the rest to God.” Her kindness wasn’t abstract—it was actionable. She would regularly buy shoes, clothes, and essentials from local markets to distribute to the poor, the destitute, our house help, and the workers on our village farm. She even held a deep, intuitive relationship with nature, often treating everyday ailments like headaches or stomach aches with leaves from the plants she lovingly nurtured.
When cancer struck, her true resilience shone brightest. Throughout her hard chemotherapy sessions, she faced pain with a dignity that humbled everyone around her. Even as her body grew fragile and speaking became difficult, her spirit remained completely unshaken. She never allowed her own suffering to diminish her humanity. In the middle of intense discomfort, her primary concern was always us: Had we eaten? Were we resting enough? Were we taking care of ourselves? She taught us that true strength is not the absence of pain, but the capacity to endure it with grace.
Although her physical journey has ended, her light burns brightly in the next generation. At her condolence meeting, my teenage children expressed their love with words that touched my heart deeply:
“Nani taught us that no matter what the situation is, a person’s spirit should never break.”
Listening to my children made me realise that while formal education opens doors, it is values, sensitivity, and life principles, the kind my mother embodied that truly shape a human being. Bookish knowledge diminishes in comparison to the wisdom of the heart.
This tribute is not merely an expression of grief; it is a celebration of a remarkable woman whose life proved that true greatness is found in extraordinary humanity. Through her life of love, courage, sacrifice, and service, she left behind a legacy that lives on in her children and grandchildren.
May your soul rest in eternal peace, Mummy. You will forever live in our hearts.
