Legacy of the ‘Gaon Wale’: Strength, Softness, and a Silent Blessing

They say you need a special day to honor your parents, like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, or even for in-laws. I had every intention of creating a post yesterday to be published this Mother’s Day, but then I paused. I’ve never followed trends, so why start now?

Yesterday, someone asked me who my role models are. The first image that came to mind wasn’t a celebrity or a well-known name—it was my family.

As an introvert by upbringing and a truth seeker by nature, I’ve found that the deepest growth in my life came during two specific periods: from 2005 to 2013, growing emotionally alongside my father, and from 2018 to 2020, becoming stronger while learning from my father-in-law.

Both were in the final chapters of their lives during these years. Yet, when they held my hand or looked into my eyes with pride—the kind I often didn’t have in myself—I felt an unspoken bond. They saw something in me. They gave me something no one else did: quiet trust, gentle strength, and a safe space to just be.

My father (Shri. A.G. Ananthanarayanan) passed away at 66 in 2013, and my father-in-law (Shri. E.V. Radhakrishnan Iyer) at 86 in 2020. Their departures left a void, emotionally hurting me due to the changes in our family dynamics. But it also removed the moldings I had hidden under for years. I began to see myself for who I truly was.

In December 2024, my youngest cousin sister Divya Murlidhar told me she felt I had become courageous, so different from the shy girl she had known in our childhood. My coach Nikhil Tyagi Sir at Corporate Wellness, with whom I’ve been speaking for over a month, called me "brave" recently. And in the last few months, relatives whom I met, mentioned I’ve grown into a ‘big girl’—exploring my horizons and standing in my own light. Their recognition made me feel that they weren’t just meeting me, but also feeling the presence of the two fathers who continue to guide my approach to life.

My father and father-in-law's values of being there, helping and supporting what we now call ‘extended family’ were rooted in something deeper. For them, siblings living together wasn’t a duty; it was a bond. It was this bond they often spoke about in their final years, revealing how vast my families truly are—not just those living in the same house, but people across different cities and countries, all connected by the same ancestral roots. That realization broke the narrow belief that a married woman must choose between her maternal and marital homes. It deepened my understanding that family is not about choosing, but about embracing every root that has shaped me - a more inclusive and holistic view of family, where all connections and experiences are valued.

They say it takes a jeweller to recognize a real diamond—not just by how it shines, but by understanding its true value. Somewhere along the way, I feel I’ve become that jeweller in my own life. My idea of family has grown to include everyone who shares the ancestral roots of my parents and in-laws, even if I’ve never met them. It made me realize that I don’t have to choose between where I was born and where I got married. Instead, I carry both within me and all the generations that came before us, no matter where they are in the world today. That, to me, is the REAL TREASURE signifying that true value lies in embracing all aspects of one's background and lineage.

Each relative now feels like an extension of the same roots that shaped my family tree. I may not know, meet, or fully understand many of them, but when I visit temples or write my prayers, I ask for love, peace, and happiness in the lives of everyone who shares these roots.

It’s often believed that love and care come primarily from our mothers, while fathers are busy making a living. But my experience has shown me that love and support can come from unexpected places. Both my fathers, through the way they raised me, respected me, understood me, and showed affection, didn’t just play the role of fathers. They also gave me the same motherly love of nurturing. They taught me to be bold and courageous, just like them, so I could stand strong and speak up when needed (yes, in the same high-pitched tone and voice they passed on to me both by nature and nurture).

But they also showed me how to share love and warmth—not just within our immediate family, but with their siblings and extended families too. They often spoke with pride about their village - Palakkad (in Kerala, India), the place where they grew up, living with siblings, caring for one another, working hard, coming to Mumbai to find jobs, getting married, raising children, and building lives.

They didn’t leave behind property for me because they knew I never longed for a physical home, and all along, they were quietly building a home inside me. One that would hold memories, values, and space for everyone with whom CARE could be shared. They also knew, deep within, that one day I would be capable enough to build a physical home on my own—or will be doing something meaningful for the place and the people both of their hearts had beat for until their last breath: Palakkad.

Both my fathers taught me that being 'GAON WALE' (in Hindi), 'Naattu Karan' (in Tamil & Malayalam), or 'Countryman' (in English) was something to be proud of, as they confidently referred to themselves in these terms, fluent in each language. And they proved that it wasn’t just about where you’re from, but about how you live and love. In fact, they carried their respective village names Adithyapuram and Elappully, in the initials of their names too, despite living in Mumbai for 40-50 years. And in their own quiet way, they made me a COUNTRYWOMAN too, grounded, open-hearted, and proud of my roots.

Despite being born in 1947 (my father) and 1934 (my father-in-law), and growing up in times when societal and cultural norms were restrictive for women, neither of them actively encouraged me to break free from those limitations—because they themselves lived within those systems. However, as they reached the later stages of their lives, they both, in their own ways, EMPOWERED me. It wasn't through direct action or change, but through the BLESSINGS they gave me and the quiet confidence they showed in me whenever I stood before them. It’s that trust and faith in me that I now carry with me, helping me embrace a more progressive, independent identity and move forward in 2025 and beyond with confidence.

Wherever they are now, I believe they SEE ME. Their Preethi (Parvathy) is doing her best to carry forward what they left behind, not just for today but for the generations to come. And perhaps, in some small way, the future will remember not only me but them too, for raising not just a daughter or a daughter-in-law, but for inspiring the WOMAN I’ve become.

Written by:

Ms. Parvathy Ananthanarayanan Mangala

The Power of Vision: Avinan and Kartika's Story

Avinan felt like his world was a bit blurry. 

He did things every day, but he didn't have a clear idea of what he wanted in the future. 

Everything around him seemed a little dull.

Kartika saw the world very clearly and in bright colors. 

She had a strong picture in her mind of a small bakery she wanted to open. 

She imagined the smell of warm bread, happy customers, and the bright yellow walls of her shop. She talked about it all the time.

Avinan would listen, sometimes wishing he had such a clear picture in his head. 

He wondered how she could see something that wasn't real yet so well.

One day, Kartika started to make her dream happen. 

She saved money, tried out recipes in her kitchen, and even found a small empty shop that she imagined turning into her bakery. 

Avinan watched her, still feeling a bit lost himself.

Then, seeing Kartika work so hard towards her dream made something click in Avinan. 

He started to think about what he really wanted. 

It wasn't a big dream, just a small one: a quiet space in his house where he could read and write without being bothered.

He started to tidy up a messy corner, imagining a comfy chair, good lighting, and shelves for his books. 

Slowly, he started to make that space real.

Months later, Kartika's bakery, "Sunshine Bakes," opened. 

Its yellow walls looked warm and inviting, and the smell of baking bread filled the air. 

Avinan was one of her first customers, holding a book.

Sitting in the cozy bakery, eating a warm cookie, he looked around at the happy customers and the bright surroundings – all because of Kartika's clear dream. 

Then he thought about his own quiet corner at home, which was now real too. 

He understood that Kartika was right: what you imagine and work towards really does shape where you end up. 

Even a small, simple idea can change your world.

Simple Recipe to make Spicy Bread Upma

 By Deepika Amit Iyer

Ingredients:

• Bread slices – cut into small cubes
• Ghee – 1–2 tsp
• Oil or Ghee – 1 tbsp
• Mustard seeds – ½ tsp
• Urad dal – 1 tsp
• Chana dal – 1 tsp
• Hing (asafoetida) – a pinch
• Turmeric – ¼ tsp
• Onion – 1, chopped
• Tomato – 1, chopped
• Green chilli – to taste, chopped
• Curry leaves – a few
• Salt – to taste
• Fresh coriander – chopped

Instructions:

Cut bread into small cubes and toast them in a little ghee until crisp. Set aside.

In a pan, heat 1 tablespoon oil or ghee. Add mustard seeds, urad dal, chana dal, curry leaves, a pinch of hing, and turmeric.

Add chopped onions and sauté until translucent.

Add chopped tomatoes and cook until soft. Add green chillies to your spice preference.

Once the veggies are soft, add salt (adjusting for the amount of bread) and mix well.

Add the toasted bread cubes and mix everything together so the bread absorbs the flavors.

Garnish with fresh coriander and serve hot.

Grandma's Wisdom on Best Natural Exercise and Anika's Wit

Anika loved to laugh. Not just a polite giggle, but a full-bellied, eyes-watering, shoulder-shaking laugh.  

She believed it was the best medicine, a natural pick-me-up.  

And, as her grandmother used to say, "Laughing is the best natural exercise for your abs. So look up a good joke every day."

Anika took this to heart. Every morning, while making her tea, she'd search online for a funny story, a witty one-liner, or a silly comic strip.  

Sometimes, the jokes were corny, sometimes they were clever, but they always brought a smile to her face.  

She'd start her day with a chuckle, and it set a positive tone for everything that followed.

Her friend, Rohan, teased her about it. "You're obsessed with jokes, Anika," he'd say. "Why don't you focus on real exercise, like going to the gym?"

Anika would just laugh. "This is my exercise, Rohan!  It's good for my soul and my abs, remember what my grandma says?"

Rohan remained skeptical. He was a gym rat, dedicated to his weights and cardio. 

He considered Anika's "joke-a-day" routine a waste of time.

One day, Rohan was feeling particularly stressed. 

He had a big presentation coming up, and he was so nervous he could barely eat or sleep. 

He was also having terrible stomach cramps.

Anika, noticing his distress, said, "Rohan, you need to relax.  Tell you what, I've got a hilarious story about a clumsy penguin. Want to hear it?"

Rohan, initially reluctant, eventually gave in.  

Anika told him the story, acting out the penguin's mishaps with dramatic flair.  

As she narrated, Rohan started to chuckle.  

Then he giggled.  And finally, he burst out laughing, tears streaming down his face.

Afterward, Rohan felt surprisingly lighter.  

His stomach cramps had eased, and his anxiety had lessened.  "Wow, Anika," he said. "That actually helped. I feel much better."

Anika smiled.  "See?  Laughter is the best medicine. And the best exercise for your abs!  Grandma was right."

From that day on, Rohan understood the power of laughter. 

He still went to the gym, but he also started appreciating Anika's "joke-a-day" routine. 

He even started sharing jokes with her. He realized that physical fitness was important, but so was mental and emotional well-being. 

And sometimes, a good laugh was all it took to make everything feel a little bit better.  

He learned that Anika's "natural ab workout" was more than just a funny saying, it was a recipe for a happier, healthier life.

Simple Recipe to make Porichakuzhambu

Ingredients Required:

Mixed Vegetables:

1) Raw Bananas

2) Ashgourd

3) Pumpkin

4) Brinjal

5) Karamani

6) Turmeric powder

7) Salt

For Spices:

1) 1 spoon Ural Dal

2) 1 spoon Chana Dal

3) Black pepper 2 or 3

4) Dried Red Chillies

5) Hing

6) Fresh grated Coconut

7) Coconut oil

Preparation:

1) Cut all the vegetables.

2) Soak Tamarind in hot water for 10 minutes then squeeze the water and keep it aside.

3) Pressure cook the Karamani.

4) Also cook the cut vegetables in salt and turmeric.

5) Heat oil and roast the daals, red chillies, and pepper.

6) Then grind the same along with grated coconut into a smooth paste.

7) Take the Tamarind water and allow it to boil for 5 minutes.

8) Add the cooked vegetables and karamani and let it boil.

9) Afterwards, add the grounded paste and stir continuously.

10) Check the same for thickness and salt.

11) Heat a tablespoon of oil, add the mustard seeds and after it crackles, garnish it with curry leaves.

Kuzhambu is ready.

Every Beginner is a Winner - Overcoming Procrastination and the Fear of Starting

Rajeev was a young man with big dreams.

He wanted to write a book, one that would inspire others, but every time he sat down to start, his mind filled with doubts.

"What if no one likes it?" he would think. "What if I fail?"

These thoughts kept him from ever typing a single word.

 Days turned into weeks, and his dream felt more and more distant.

 One evening, while sitting on his balcony, Rajeev saw an old man from the neighborhood slowly jogging down the street.

 The man was in his seventies, and though his steps were small and labored, he kept moving.

 Rajeev, impressed by the man's determination, approached him after his run.

"Uncle, you inspire me with your running," Rajeev said. "How do you keep going at your age?"

The old man smiled and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"You know, Rajeev, I wasn’t always a runner. I started just a few years ago. At first, it was terrifying—what if I couldn't do it? But I told myself, 'Every beginner is a winner.' You see, the moment I started, I had already won. I had beaten my fears, my doubts, and the temptation to do nothing."

Rajeev was stunned. "You’re saying that just starting is a win?"

"Exactly," the old man nodded. "The real victory is overcoming that voice inside that says you can’t. The moment you begin, you’ve already beaten inertia and procrastination. That’s a win in itself."

Inspired by the man’s words, Rajeev went home and opened his laptop.

The blank page no longer seemed intimidating.

He typed the first sentence, then another.

Though his words were simple, they flowed, and before he knew it, he had written a full chapter.

As he stared at the screen, Rajeev smiled, remembering the old man’s wisdom: “Every beginner is a winner.”

He realized that by starting, he had already succeeded.

The rest of the journey was just building on that first victory.

From that day forward, Rajeev embraced the idea that starting, even imperfectly, was a triumph.

He no longer feared the blank page because he knew that as long as he was trying, he had already won.