For Mother’s Day, we spoke to our member Ms I. Day, who reflected on the profound impact her mother had on her life. Here, she recounts her mother’s determination to ensure her daughters received an education, even in the face of resistance and limited means.

My love for studies came entirely from my mother. She was a housewife but also an avid reader. At bedtime, my elder sister and I would crawl under the mosquito net and curl up beside her as she read us stories by Nihar Ranjan Gupta. Those moments filled our heads with dreams and inspired us to read and learn more.
My father was very conservative and did not believe that women needed education, so we were homeschooled when we were young. In fact, he worried that education would come in the way of getting us married. In those days, matchmaking often required that the man be more educated than the wife, and so a highly educated woman would have to choose from a shrunken pool of suitors, making marriage a difficult proposition. I do not criticise my father; he was influenced by an age-old patriarchal system. But my mother was the voice of change.
When I turned eight and my sister ten, our mother began to worry that schools would no longer accept us and that we would miss out on formal education. I remember it was on the day of Poush Sankranti that she convinced our father to enrol us in school. After discussions between the two, we were admitted to Ballygunge Balika Vidyalaya and Shilpa Sikshayatan.
I was an excellent student, and my fees were halved by the school. When I was in Class 8 or 9, my father defaulted on paying the fees. As a result, we were barred from appearing for our final examinations. It pains me to recall this now, but my father did not consider his daughters’ education a priority. My mother stepped in. She had limited means and did not ask my father for anything. Instead, she mortgaged her bangles and paid our fees so that our education would not be interrupted.
I will always be indebted to my mother. If it were not for her, my sister and I might never have experienced the joys of learning, nor would I have gone on to complete my MA and B.Ed. I credit my mother not only for my academic achievements but also for shaping my worldview, instilling progressive values in me, and making me the person I am.

(as narrated to Support Elders by our member)

At 75, our member Ms R. Biswas is active as ever. She is a journalist, writer and translator of fiction from the Assamese into English. She spoke to us about her first trip to Spain.


I have a deep love for travelling, and over the years I have visited many countries; some on personal trips—even solo ones—and some as an invitee, as part of the media fraternity. I have found every country to be unique, with its own culture and cuisine, and at times I have also discovered similarities between these far-flung places and practices back home in India.
One of my favourite places to visit has been Spain; I must have been there five or six times. I used to learn Spanish earlier, and now I keep up my practice on a foreign-language learning app. I first visited Spain in 1992 when, as a health journalist, I was invited to present a paper at a conference on HIV.
My connecting flight from Delhi to Barcelona was via London, which turned out to be extremely delayed. I landed in Barcelona at midnight, with nothing except my presentation papers and my travel documents. I knew only a handful of Spanish words back then, and communicating in English seemed nearly impossible, unlike today when English is far more widely used. Unable to locate the bus for conference delegates, I boarded a shuttle bus to the city centre.
The streets were full of revellers. The Spanish love to party late into the night, and are very warm and amenable, much like us Indians. I needed to get to the university where the conference was being held, and where the delegates were also being accommodated. I stood at a square, unable to find a taxi, until I finally managed to stop a passerby—a young girl—who kindly hailed a cab for me. I had a picture of the university with me and showed it to the driver, who said he would take me there.
When we reached the university, we discovered that the institution itself had shifted to another location almost 40 miles away. I was dejected, but the driver agreed to take me there. As we drove through deserted highways, I remember feeling vulnerable and thinking, “Someone could easily harm me here, and there would be nothing I could do.”
Finally, when we reached the university, it was almost 2 a.m. I thanked the driver for his kindness and tipped him generously. The campus was bustling with people because of the conference as I checked into my room. With a change of clothes unavailable, I ended up wearing the same outfit for two days until my bags arrived. I would wash my clothes at night and leave them to dry in the warm summer air of Barcelona.
All delegates were given free passes for public transport, and I travelled extensively within the city and to the seaside. After the conference, I went to Spain’s capital, Madrid, for leisure. I also visited Seville, enjoying the local food and interacting with people. My stay was full of discoveries and learning. For instance, I learnt that flamenco—a folk music and dance tradition of southern Spain—has roots in the Romani people, whose ancestors migrated from regions of northwest India such as Sindh and Rajasthan. I was fascinated by such connections and began to explore them further.
On my return to India, I penned several articles, including one in the local pages of The Times of India, in which I wrote fondly of my time in Spain. This caught the attention of Spanish authorities, who later funded two or three of my trips to the country to document its food and culture. I eventually turned my journals into a book titled Notes from a Spanish Diary. I enjoy writing travelogues—not merely descriptions of places, but reflections on my experiences on the streets, among the everyday lives and people of each destination.


(as narrated to Support Elders by our member)