Born on 19 June 1926 in a Vedic purohit family, she was named Mangalam, as the fourteenth child, though only four survived infancy. The name was given in the hope that she would be the final child, sparing her father the fate of becoming another Kuchela (Sudama) with a large family [as he had 27 children]. In that sense, she indeed lived up to her name, becoming the closing point of that branch of the family lineage. Married at the age of eighteen in 1944 to a thirty-eight-year-old man as his third wife, she experienced both loss and continuity in her life: out of seven pregnancies, one ended in miscarriage and a child died three days after birth, while five children survived. She also endured the 1975 death of her first-born son at age 28, who left behind his wife and their only child, the family’s sole daughter.
She raised five children, and lived to see five grandchildren and ten great-grandchildren. She lived a long life, and passed away on 26 December 2022, just short of her hundredth year, leaving me unable to celebrate her centenary with her present.
As I reflect on our life together as mother and son, I offer this tribute to her. Although celebrating birthdays has never been part of our family tradition, her 100th birth anniversary is a special occasion. To mark this remarkable day, I shall spend it writing down the many cherished memories and graceful moments that she brought into my life—memories that I continue to treasure with deep affection and gratitude.
Ashram
June 19, 2026
The Bond of Heritage
A hundred years have swiftly flown away,
The life you lived now seems a dream today;
Though you are no longer by my side,
Your bond with me still walks, a living tide.
For some brief time I keep your memory near,
Then life moves on and leaves it less than clear;
Yet though the rolling cart of life moves fast,
You travel still along the paths you’ve passed.
Such is the way of human life and fate,
A bond unseen continues to relate;
Becoming part of that unbroken chain,
Each generation fades and comes again.
Though hidden from the eye, within you stay,
Your presence casts its shadow every day;
Though kin and family may forget your name,
As long as I remain, you still remain.
And when one day I too have passed from sight,
And none remain to hold my name in light,
Somewhere, in some far corner, this voice will ring,
And through another life its song will sing.
This dignity belongs to humankind alone,
A truth even the gods have never known;
The creatures born and gone beneath the sky
Can never grasp this heritage passing by.
You were a part of this enduring thread,
And left behind the bond when you had fled;
As future generations do the same,
Within that living link you’ll still remain.
Ashram, June 19, 2026, 5.00 am.
Legacy that links
This poem was written on the centenary of my mother’s birth. While remembering her on this occasion, I found myself reflecting not only on her life but also on the meaning of human legacy itself.
I am fully aware that, in the course of time, even those dearest to us may be forgotten. A generation or two may remember my mother, but beyond that her name may gradually fade from family memory. Yet this does not diminish her significance. She remains an indispensable link in the chain of life that connects the past to the present and the present to the future.
The poem therefore does not seek to immortalize her memory. Rather, it celebrates the fact that her life continues through the lives she touched, shaped, and helped bring into being. In this sense, continuity itself is the greatest legacy that any human being can leave behind, from which God is even deprived.
While all living creatures participate in the continuity of life, human beings possess a unique awareness of it. We alone consciously remember those who came before us, think about those who will come after us, and recognize ourselves as a link between the two. We inherit a legacy from our ancestors and, knowingly or unknowingly, pass it on to future generations.
As I reflect upon my mother’s centenary, I realize that this may be the most enduring meaning of her life. Even if her name is one day forgotten, she remains part of an unbroken chain extending across generations. Through that continuity, she continues to live within the larger human story.
Thus this poem is both a tribute to my mother and an expression of gratitude for the place she occupies in that chain—a place that can never truly be lost, even when memory itself fades.
Ashram, 19 June 2026.
The Bond of Heritage
A hundred years have swiftly flown away,
The life you lived now seems a dream today;
Though you are no longer by my side,
Your bond with me still walks, a living tide.
For some brief time I keep your memory near,
Then life moves on and leaves it less than clear;
Yet though the rolling cart of life moves fast,
You travel still along the paths you’ve passed.
Such is the way of human life and fate,
A bond unseen continues to relate;
Becoming part of that unbroken chain,
Each generation fades and comes again.
Though hidden from the eye, within you stay,
Your presence casts its shadow every day;
Though kin and family may forget your name,
As long as I remain, you still remain.
And when one day I too have passed from sight,
And none remain to hold my name in light,
Somewhere, in some far corner, this voice will ring,
And through another life its song will sing.
This dignity belongs to humankind alone,
A truth even the gods have never known;
The creatures born and gone beneath the sky
Can never grasp this heritage passing by.
You were a part of this enduring thread,
And left behind the bond when you had fled;
As future generations do the same,
Within that living link you’ll still remain.
Ashram, June 19, 2026, 5.00 am.
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