A Mother’s Lessons: A Priceless Legacy of Staying Connected
Some lessons aren’t found in books; they’re learned through life experiences and the values instilled by loved ones. This is the story of one such mother’s lessons, imparted not in a classroom, but in the kitchen and courtyard of her home. This is the story of Akash and the invaluable lessons his mother, Mrs. Devaki, taught him, even at the heights of success.
Aakash was a boy from a small hill village in Uttarakhand. His father was a farmer and his mother, Devaki, a simple housewife. But despite being ordinary, Devaki was extraordinary. She wasn’t educated, but she possessed a wisdom of life that even the highest degrees couldn’t provide.
This is the story of a typical Indian family, where dreams were big and resources were limited.
Aakash was a brilliant student from childhood. His dream was to become a senior officer and lift his family out of poverty. Devaki was willing to make any sacrifice to fulfill her son’s dream.
She always told Akash three things, which became three magical mantras for him:
“Son, the deeper the roots, the taller the tree will grow.”
“Take only as much as you can eat from your plate. Insulting food is an insult to God.”
“True worship is not in a temple, but in serving people.”
Akash studied day and night and eventually became an IAS officer. His first posting was in Delhi.
The glitz of the city, the lavish parties, and the company of high-ranking individuals… Akash gradually began to immerse himself in this new world. He seemed to forget his village and his roots.
Another character in this story is Akash’s wife, Neha. Neha, too, came from a well-to-do family and loved the fast-paced city life.
The story took a turn when one day, Akash’s childhood friend from his village, Chandan, came to visit him in Delhi. Chandan was a simple farmer, his clothes dirty and his hands rough.
When he arrived at Akash’s luxurious bungalow, the guard at the gate stopped him.
Just then, Akash arrived in his large car. He saw Chandan, but in front of his wealthy friends, he felt embarrassed to recognize his poor friend from the village.
“Who are you? What’s your business?” he asked coldly.
Chandan’s eyes filled with tears. “I… I’m Chandan, Akash. Your childhood friend.”
Akash ignored him. “I don’t remember any Chandan or Vandan. Get out of here.”
It wasn’t a misunderstanding, but the arrogance of forgetting one’s roots in the intoxication of success.
Chandan left quietly, his head bowed.
That night, when Akash returned home, his mother, Devaki ji, who had come to stay with him for a few days, said nothing to him. She simply sat quietly.
The next day, when everyone sat down at the breakfast table, Devaki ji took only one roti on her plate.
“Hey Mom, why are you eating so little?” Neha asked.
Devaki ji looked at her son, Akash, with a deep, penetrating gaze. “Because, son,” she said, “food is so disrespected in this house these days. People take so much on their plates that they can’t digest it…whether it’s food or success.”
These words pierced Akash’s heart like an arrow. This was his mother’s second lesson, showing him the mirror.
That same evening, Devaki ji packed her things. “I’m going back to the village,” she said.
“But why, Mom?” Akash asked.
“Because I feel suffocated here,” he said. “There are big houses here, but very small hearts. People here worship, but they don’t know how to appreciate a person. Son, true worship lies in serving people, not insulting them. Today you have insulted not only Chandan, but also the values I taught you.”
With this, she left.
It was the sacrifice of a mother, moving away from the glare of her son’s success to make him realize his mistake.
After her mother left, the big bungalow began to run towards the sky. He realized his mistake. He remembered how Chandan used to eat from the same plate with him as a child. He began to remember every word and every lesson his mother had taught him.
His pride melted away, turning into tears of remorse.
The next day, he left everything and set out for his village.
When he reached his village, he saw a crowd gathered outside Chandan’s house. He learned that Chandan’s daughter was very ill and needed money for treatment.
Akash ran to Chandan’s house and fell at his feet. “Forgive me, friend. I was blind.”
Not only did he cover the entire cost of Chandan’s daughter’s treatment, but he also apologized to his mother.
This story teaches us that a mother’s teachings are not just words, but the foundation on which our character is built. Success is important, but even more important is staying connected to our roots, keeping our humanity alive.
Aakash learned that the deeper the roots, the higher the tree grows. And that day, by regaining the values his mother had instilled in him, he achieved the greatest success of his life.
