When 'Ma' is not a name

Mother's Day arrives each year with its predictable rituals--glossy advertisements, social media posts adorned with flowers and "I love you, Ma" captions. It is a day to honour the woman who gave birth to us, raised us, stayed up through the fevers, and clapped the loudest in every little achivements. And rightly so. But not every mother is a mother in name.

Some never held the official title. Some didn't carry a child in their womb, or walk down a maternity ward corridor. Yet, they mothered. Quietly. Fiercely. Completely.

Let us take a moment to honour those women--the ones who did not give life, but who gave everything else.

There is the elder sister who grew up too soon. Who exchanged her carefree teenage years for grocery lists, school forms, and tuition fees. While her classmates debated college majors, she debated which electricity bill could wait another month. Her siblings call her Apu/Didi, not Ma, but it is she who stayed up during exam weeks, she who said no to new shoes so they could get his first smartphone. Her name is not written in the school's guardian file, but her handwriting is on every chapter he ever understood.

And what of the aunts--those soft-spoken women who quietly stepped into the eye of a storm? When a sibling fell sick, disappeared, or simply gave up, it was the aunt who arrived with warm rice and patient ears.

Then there are the grandmothers, their backs bent not only from age but from carrying two generations. They parented once, and then did it all over again when their children couldn't. They packed lunches with wrinkled hands, scolded with wisdom, and gave lessons without ever opening a book. Many of them never planned to raise another child in their sixties, but when the call came, they didn't hesitate. Love made them ready.

Let us not forget the neighbours, the woman next door who began by sharing leftover curry and ended up sharing her home. The teacher who bought school supplies for the child always left out. The friend of the family who became more family than friend.

These women mothered without obligation. Their love came without strings, and sometimes, without acknowledgment.

And of course, there is the single mother. Often exhausted, often overlooked. Juggling jobs, expectations, and judgement. She is both breadwinner and bedtime storyteller, both disciplinarian and comforter. Her days are long, and her loneliness longer, but she mothers with a determination that turns scarcity into security. She may not have a partner, but she builds a household out of hope and hard work.

Society tends to define motherhood within the neat boundaries of biology and legality--but real life is far messier, and far more beautiful. Motherhood is not just about birthing a child. It's about showing up, every day, in ways that shape a life. It's about selflessness that doesn't ask for credit. It's about creating safety, offering softness, and making sacrifices no one ever sees.

So this Mother's Day, let us widen our gaze. Let us honour not just the mothers, but the mothering. Let us say thank you to the women whose names might not appear on family trees but are etched into the hearts of those they raised.

Because sometimes, "Ma" is not a name--it's a verb.

And those who mother, in all their forms, deserve to be celebrated.