Showing posts with label Family Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family Stories. Show all posts

Thursday, December 25, 2025

How Hanuman Bhakti Shaped My Life and Led Me to Ayodhya

My name is Parvathy Ananthanarayanan Mangala. 

I am the Founder of Ram SwaRajya Library, Ayodhya. 

This is not just the story of a place I built, but the story of a faith that quietly carried me through life.

I lived in Dombivli (Mumbai) for 35 years. 

My life during those years was not easy. 

I faced many problems and long periods of struggle. 

Like many people, I searched for strength, not miracles. 

What sustained me was devotion—especially my connection with Lord Rama and Hanuman ji, which began in childhood without my full understanding.

As a child, my maternal aunt Smt. Vijaya Lakshmanan who stays in Chennai (Tamil Nadu) had come home once and taught me a simple practice: writing “Sri Rama Jayam” again and again and offering it as a Rama mala in Lord Rama and Hanuman temples. 

At that time, I did not know its meaning. 

I only knew it brought peace. 

Along with this, watching and reading the Ramayana slowly created a deep bond with Lord Rama. 

That bond stayed with me through every stage of life.

Over the years, I noticed something special. 

Whenever I saw a Lord Hanuman idol, whether on the street or in a temple, I felt instant happiness. 

It was natural and effortless. 

I did not force this feeling—it simply came. 

Without planning it, I began identifying with the pen name Ram SwaRajya, a name that reflects my belief in Dharma, inner strength, and self-rule guided by Rama.

For 35 years, life tested me continuously. 

People around me often advised me to read the Hanuman Chalisa and offer Rama malas to Hanuman ji. 

They said it would not remove problems overnight, but it would give me strength to face them. 

That advice proved true. Hanuman ji gave me courage, stability, and the ability to endure without losing faith.

In August 2025, something life-changing happened. 

I visited Ayodhya (Uttar Pradesh) and had darshan at Shri Hanuman Garhi and Shri Ram Janmabhoomi Mandir. 

That visit deeply moved me. 

It was not emotional excitement—it was clarity. 

I felt a strong inner call to align my life with the values of Rama: dharma, service, and knowledge.

After that visit, I took a major decision. 

I chose to move away from the life I had known in Mumbai and establish something meaningful in Ayodhya. 

This led to the creation of Ram SwaRajya Library—a space dedicated to books, reflection, and values rooted in Indian spiritual wisdom.

Ram SwaRajya Library was born not from ambition, but from gratitude. 

It is my way of giving back to the strength that sustained me for decades. 

It stands as a reminder that devotion does not always appear loudly. 

Sometimes, it works silently—teaching patience, courage, and faith—until one day, it shows you a new path.

My journey proves one simple truth:

Hanuman ji does not remove all struggles, but he gives the strength to rise above them.

And when strength meets faith, life naturally moves toward purpose.

Thursday, May 8, 2025

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 former 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 ex-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 ex-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


A girl raised by two fathers