A quiet celebration of women

With International Women’s Day just days away, the world prepares to celebrate. But do we really need a marked date to honour the women who shape our lives? For me, they are not confined to a single day. They aren’t just a passing thought. I carry them with me, in stories, in laughter, in the quiet wisdom they leave behind.

Amma, Ma, Kakima, Monee — their presence is woven into my being, as if they live within me. The women who raised me, scolded me, wrapped me in warmth, and sometimes, without saying a word, made me feel safe in a world that often forgets how much women hold together.

Then there are my colleagues, my friends, my classmates — women I admire in small, everyday moments. Recall a simple yet unforgettable morning when, amidst the bustle of crossing a busy street, Tiara gently grasped my hand. She was more a friend than boss. In that brief yet gentle touch lay the essence of care, showing that sometimes, the smallest acts of kindness brighten the the path ahead.

Naghma, who once prayed for my mother. She is no more, but that prayer still lingers — a soft blessing that never fades. Sometimes whispered at her office desk, sometimes in her kitchen, her devotion spoke of a deep bond. A silent promise that true love lives, even beyond presence.

And my cousins, though ‘cousins’ is no right word for them. Kakima (aunt) always called us ‘tin bon’ — three sisters. A striking woman in many ways, she would become unexpectedly soft when she spoke of us, her smile tender as she called us ‘tin bon’ — a quiet reminder of the bond we always share. Sisters. They stand by me, fill my plate with good food, run after me so that I am not alone in the elevator, pick sarees that they think will suit me. They remind me that love is never measured, only given.

And then, there’s Oli, my friend and my partner in laughter. With her, I can laugh over anything on earth. Also discuss things seriously. It could be about how women are breaking barriers and becoming entrepreneurs, or the latest fashion trends, or even the way stress seems to be everyone’s shadow these days. But beneath our laughter, our conversations always hold substance.

Oli’s girls — her beloved dotties come up often in our conversations. She sighs, sometimes complaining they are ‘fiercely independent.’ But I see them differently. They are fiercely no-nonsense, unshaken by timidity, yet kind in ways that truly matter…the kind of kindness that doesn’t always come wrapped in softness, but in quiet strength, in standing their ground, in caring without making a spectacle of it.

Much like Oli’s dotties, my own circle of childhood friends carries a quiet strength. Our school friends — strong, steadfast women…were never ones to be swayed by trivialities. I treasure each one of them, that is to say. We grew up with minds of our own, standing our ground, shaping our lives with quiet determination. There’s a comfort in knowing that, despite the years and distances, we are still those same girls — rooted, resilient, and ever ready to take on the world, one conversation, one shared laugh at a time. This year, four or five of our girls… now graceful, self-assured women set out for the Kumbh Mela. Amidst the rush and chaos, they navigated the crowds, found their moments of peace, and returned with stories of faith, adventure, and quiet triumph.

So, while the world gears up for grand speeches and hashtags, I celebrate in the quietest way possible…by remembering. Because for me, appreciating women isn’t bound to a single day. In my eyes, they are extraordinary, not for accolades, but for the way they fill life with love, quiet presence, and a steadfast spirit. Maybe that’s what lingers most, much like Naghma’s prayer — unseen, but always felt.

END OF ARTICLE