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:

Mrs. Parvathy Umashankar Iyer 

(Ms. Parvathy Ananthanarayanan Mangala)

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.

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.

Beginning is Half-Done – A Motivational Story for Overcoming Procrastination

Mishka was a young bear who lived in a peaceful forest at the edge of the mountains.

Although Mishka had many dreams—like building a treehouse high in the branches or learning to catch fish like the older bears—he always hesitated when it came time to start.

The ideas seemed so big, so overwhelming, that he would spend days just imagining how wonderful they could be rather than doing anything about them.

One day, while wandering through the forest, Mishka found a clearing. It was the perfect place for his long-dreamed-of treehouse.

The tree was tall and sturdy, with branches that stretched high into the sky. "This would be amazing,"

Mishka thought, his heart racing with excitement.

But then, doubt crept in. "It’s too hard... I don’t even know where to begin. I’ll never finish it."

Mishka sat down, staring at the tree and feeling defeated before even trying.

Just then, his friend, an old and wise owl named Orin, swooped down from the sky and landed beside him.

"Why the long face, Mishka?" Orin asked in his soft, hooting voice.

Mishka sighed. "I want to build a treehouse here, but it seems impossible. I don’t even know how to start."

Orin chuckled kindly. "Ah, young Mishka, have you heard the saying, ‘Beginning is half-done’?"

Mishka tilted his head, confused. "What does that mean?"

Orin smiled. "It means that the hardest part of any task is simply starting it. Once you begin, you’ve already conquered a huge part of the challenge."

Mishka thought for a moment. "So... if I just start, it’ll be easier?"

"Precisely!" Orin nodded. "You don’t have to finish everything at once. Just take that first step."

Inspired, Mishka decided to try. He picked up a few sticks and started laying them out.

At first, it seemed like nothing special—a few twigs on the ground—but soon, he had the beginnings of a foundation.

The work became less daunting, and little by little, the pieces came together.

Days passed, and with each new task, Mishka felt more confident.

Before long, his treehouse stood proudly in the clearing, a testament to his perseverance.

As he climbed to the top and looked out over the forest, he smiled to himself, realizing Orin had been right.

From that day on, whenever Mishka faced something new and challenging, he would remember Orin’s words: "Beginning is half-done."

And with that, he would take the first step, knowing that the rest would follow.

Agastya’s Lesson: Success Through Doing the Right Thing at the Right Time

Agastya was a young farmer who lived in a quiet village surrounded by green fields.

He was hardworking and known for always doing his best in everything he did.

One year, the village elders announced a prize for the best harvest, and Agastya was determined to win.

He had been farming for years, so he knew what to do.

But this time, he wanted to ensure everything was perfect.

Instead of rushing to plant his seeds like the other farmers, he spent extra time preparing the soil.

He carefully chose the best seeds and waited for the right time to plant them.

Some of his friends laughed at him. "You’re taking too long, Agastya! You’ll miss the harvest season!" they teased.

But Agastya smiled and stayed patient. He knew that doing things the right way would bring success.

When the time was just right, he planted his seeds.

He watered them carefully, gave them just the right amount of sunlight, and made sure to protect them from pests.

While others hurried through their work, Agastya focused on doing everything the best way he knew.

Months passed, and the village fields turned golden with crops ready to harvest.

As the day of the harvest festival approached, everyone eagerly compared their crops.

Agastya’s field stood out and his crops were taller, healthier, and fuller than anyone else’s.

On the day of the festival, Agastya won the prize for the best harvest.

The village elders praised his work, and the other farmers couldn’t believe the difference in his crops.

One of his friends asked, "How did you manage to grow such a perfect harvest?"

Agastya smiled and said, "Success is single. You must do what is right, the right way, at the right time. That’s the secret."

And from that day on, Agastya's story became a lesson in the village, which is a reminder that success doesn’t come from rushing or cutting corners, but from patience, effort, and doing things properly.

The Journey of Adhira: A Story About Turning Knowledge into Action

Adhira stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the distant mountains bathed in the golden light of dusk.

Her village, nestled in the valley below, had always been her world, but her heart longed for something greater, which is something beyond the familiar, where the unknown beckoned like the wind brushing her face. 

For years, Adhira had dreamed of crossing the mountains and discovering what lay beyond. 

She was known in her village as a thinker, someone who could solve puzzles and offer wise advice. 

But despite her knowledge, she had never taken the steps to realize her own dreams. 

One evening, as she sat by the village fire, an old wanderer approached. 

His hair was silver, and his eyes gleamed with the wisdom of many journeys. 

He sat beside her without a word, staring into the flames.

"I've heard you speak of crossing the mountains," the wanderer finally said. "Why have you not gone?"

Adhira sighed, gazing up at the towering peaks.

"I know the way. I know the risks and the challenges. But knowing is not enough. I suppose I’m waiting until I’m truly ready."

The old man chuckled softly. "The mountains don’t care if you’re ready, child. What matters is whether you’re willing to do what it takes."

Adhira fell silent, his words stirring something deep within her.

She had spent years preparing in her mind, learning all there was to know about the paths and the perils.

But in her heart, there was still hesitation.

"Knowing the path is only the beginning," the wanderer continued. "Willingness without action is just a thought. You must take the step, Adhira."

The fire crackled, and the wind whispered through the trees.

That night, Adhira could not sleep. She had always believed that one day, when she was prepared enough, she would make her journey.

But the wanderer’s words had planted a seed of urgency within her.

At dawn, Adhira stood once again at the edge of the cliff.

Her heart raced, but this time, she did not turn back toward the village.

She took a deep breath and began the climb.

The journey was harder than she had imagined.

The path was steep, and the winds howled as if testing her resolve.

There were moments when doubt crept in and moments when the warmth of the village seemed a much easier life to return to.

But each time, she pressed on, remembering the wanderer’s words.

Days turned into weeks, and Adhira faced challenges she had only read about.

But as she pushed through each obstacle, something within her changed.

The mountains were no longer just a distant dream; they became her reality.

Her hands bled, her muscles ached, but her spirit grew stronger with every step.

At long last, she reached the summit. The valley below stretched out endlessly, a world she had only imagined.

The sky above was vast and open, and in that moment, Adhira understood the truth the wanderer had tried to teach her.

It was not enough to know or to wish for something.

It was in the doing, in the action, that true strength and fulfillment lay.

As she stood on that peak, the wind carrying her name across the heights, she whispered the lesson she had learned on her journey: "Knowing is not enough; we must apply, willing is not enough; we must do."

And with that, Adhira descended, ready to face the next adventure, whatever it might be, not just with knowledge or desire, but with the power of action.

---

Naya: The Golden Rule of Duty

Naya was a bright, energetic young woman living in a small village nestled between rolling hills and lush forests. 

She was known for her kindness and determination, but there was one thing she struggled with: facing tasks she didn't like. 

Whether it was waking up early, helping with chores, or preparing for exams, Naya always found ways to avoid doing things she didn’t enjoy.

One day, her grandmother, a wise old woman, noticed Naya's reluctance. "Come sit with me, child," she said, beckoning her over to the porch.

Naya plopped down next to her, feeling a bit guilty as she avoided her stack of study materials. 

"Grandma, I just don't feel like studying today. I'll do it tomorrow," she said, hoping her grandmother would understand.

Her grandmother smiled and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Naya, let me tell you something. 

In life, there are things we love doing, and things we dread. But avoiding the hard things only makes them heavier in our hearts."

Naya frowned. "But why do I have to do things I don’t want to? It just makes me feel tired and unhappy."

Her grandmother chuckled softly and replied, "Do something every day that you don’t want to do, even if it's small. This is the golden rule for acquiring the habit of doing your duty without pain."

Intrigued, Naya listened closely.

"Take small steps. Today, it might be something simple, like helping with chores or studying for just an hour. Tomorrow, it will feel a little easier, and soon, you won’t think twice about it. Doing what must be done, even when you don’t want to, is what strengthens your character."

Naya took her grandmother’s words to heart. The next day, instead of procrastinating, she decided to study for an hour, just as her grandmother suggested. 

At first, it was hard. But as the days went by, Naya began to notice a change. She became more organized, more focused, and the things she once dreaded started to feel less daunting.

Weeks turned into months, and Naya had built a new habit—she did the things she didn’t want to do first, knowing that they would bring her peace later. 

Whether it was waking up early or tackling tough tasks, Naya learned to embrace her duties without complaint.

One evening, she sat with her grandmother again, feeling proud of how far she had come. "You were right, Grandma," Naya said with a smile. "Doing something I didn’t want to do every day made everything so much easier. I feel stronger now."

Her grandmother nodded approvingly. "That’s the beauty of the golden rule, Naya. Once you make it a habit, your duties no longer feel like burdens. They become stepping stones to your success."

And so, Naya lived by the golden rule, teaching others what she had learned. 

She became an example of discipline and grace, knowing that doing what was necessary—no matter how unpleasant—was the key to living a fulfilling life.