A timeless tradition

GETTING my three-year-old daughter ready for school each morning in Chandigarh brings a wave of nostalgia, taking me back to my childhood in Shimla. Just as my parents did for me, my husband and I wake up early to prepare her for the day, and we choose to drive her to school instead of relying on buses. It’s a small gesture, but one that feels deeply familiar, echoing the love and care our parents showed us back then.

In Shimla, it was a norm to walk to school through winding hilly paths. My father would drop me and my sister off at the start of the road, always with a smile, a wave and a few reassuring words. His smile was his way of telling us everything would be fine, that we were safe in the world. Back then, I never fully appreciated the significance of those moments, but now, as a mother myself, I see the depth of that love. I understand that behind every early morning, every walk to the school and every word of encouragement, there was a quiet expression of care — something our parents did effortlessly, without a second thought.

But as a working mother, I sometimes feel the weight of missing out on moments I wish I could share with my daughter. While I manage to get her ready, drop her off and pick her up, there’s a part of me that wishes I had more time to just sit and be with her to play, to laugh, to share the small, beautiful moments that make childhood so precious. I feel the pull of wanting to be more present, but the demands of work often pull me in another direction.

Life brings its challenges, and as we navigate parenthood, I realise how much more complex it all is than I ever imagined. The sacrifices our parents made, the lessons they imparted, all make sense now. I only hope that, like them, I can raise my daughter with the same love, care and wisdom and that she will one day look back with the same appreciation and gratitude.

As I sit with my daughter, teaching her first lessons, I see and hear echoes of my own childhood. My parents taught me with patience, instilling life lessons beyond books. Now, it’s my turn. From Shimla to Chandigarh, the cycle of love and learning continues — and it feels like a beautiful, timeless tradition.