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Every May and June, Indians who can’t even speak to their parents with basic respect throughout the year suddenly become emotional poets on Instagram. “Happy Mother’s Day,” they post with a stock photo, while their mother is probably cooking alone in the kitchen. “Best Dad Ever,” they write in bold, while ignoring him in real life, chasing validation from strangers online. Let’s get one thing straight: this entire circus of Mother’s Day and Father’s Day is Western garbage, and it has absolutely no place in Indian culture.

It’s time to stop being polite about it. These are not Indian traditions. These are manufactured American rituals, imported here through television, consumerism, and mental colonization. We didn’t grow up with these days. Our scriptures don’t mention them. Our ancestors never celebrated them. These days are not about honoring parents — they are about marketing, profits, and pretending to care once a year so you can feel good about yourself without actually changing anything. This is not culture. This is a joke.

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day Are Fake, American, and Commercial
Let’s drop the sentiment and get to the facts. Mother’s Day was invented in 1908 by a woman named Anna Jarvis in the United States. She wanted to honor her mother — fair enough. But by 1914, the U.S. government turned it into a national holiday. Very soon, florists, greeting card companies, restaurants, and brands hijacked it. Anna herself later condemned what it became — a fake, cash-driven ritual that lost its soul.

Father’s Day? Even worse. Created in 1910 in the U.S., officially made a national holiday in 1972 — yes, just 50 years ago. That’s it. That’s the great tradition you’re copying. Fifty years of a made-up day in a country where old-age homes are overflowing, where children move out at 18 and visit their parents once a year. And we Indians, with our civilization older than time itself, are falling over ourselves to post stories and hashtags just because the West does it?

These aren’t celebrations. These are marketing scams. Every restaurant, gift store, clothing brand, and influencer wants you to spend money in the name of “gratitude.” You’re not honoring your parents — you’re fueling a billion-dollar capitalist industry that feeds off your guilt and ignorance.

In India, Parents Are Not Celebrated
Now let’s talk about what Indian culture actually teaches. Unlike the West, where parents are treated as emotional accessories to be remembered on birthdays and calendar days, Sanatan Dharma sees parents as divine beings.

The Upanishads don’t say “Give your mom a flower on the second Sunday of May.” They say:

"मातृ देवो भव। पितृ देवो भव।"
Your mother is God. Your father is God.

This is not a greeting card quote. This is Dharma — a code of living. In India, your life is meaningless if you don’t serve your parents. You cannot even perform a yajna (sacred ritual) if you haven’t fed your parents first. We have heroes like Shravan Kumar, who carried his blind parents on his shoulders across the country. Not for one day. For life.

We have festivals like Pitru Paksha, a 16-day period where we offer food and rituals to our ancestors — not Instagram stories, not gift hampers, but sincere offerings to the very souls who gave us life.

What Westerners do with Hallmark cards once a year, we do with our feet touching the ground every morning, with folded hands before leaving home, with silence in front of their photographs, with tears in our eyes long after they are gone. In Indian culture, you don’t celebrate your parents. You live your whole life trying to be worthy of them.

Borrowing Their Trash While Forgetting Our Treasure
It is a tragic irony that in the name of “modernization,” Indians are throwing away their timeless values and importing plastic, emotionless, performative rituals. And who are we copying? The West — a society where children move out by 18, send their parents to nursing homes, and remember them only through annual visits. Do you really think such a culture has anything to teach us about parental love?

What we are doing today is disgusting. Indians are mocking their own civilization by posting “Mother’s Day” selfies while insulting their own mother tongue. By celebrating “Father’s Day” while never having the spine to stand by their father in public. We are ditching our sacred gurukul values, where father and teacher were both seen as manifestations of divine guidance, and instead celebrating a social media festival invented by Americans who needed a reminder to love.

Why do we need this imitation? Why are we so desperate to be validated by the same people who mock our traditions, destroy our temples, and laugh at our family values? Is our thousand-year-old reverence for parents not enough that we need to top it up with an American discount coupon day?

This is not globalization. This is cultural suicide.

Don’t Celebrate Mother’s Day. Serve Your Mother DailyThe truth is harsh, but necessary: No real Hindu, no true Bharatiya, needs “Mother’s Day” or “Father’s Day.” Not even once. If you need a Western calendar to remind you to respect your parents, you have failed your Dharma.

The answer is not to oppose love — the answer is to reclaim it in its purest Indian form. Wash your father’s feet when he comes home from work. Rub your mother’s head when she’s tired. Sit quietly next to them and ask how they’re feeling. Serve them food before you eat. Let them rest while you do their chores. Not one day — every day.

Don’t post about them — live for them. Don’t buy them branded gifts — offer them your presence, your care, your silence, your strength. That is seva. That is bhakti. That is Bharatiyata.

Enough of this imported trash. Let Americans celebrate their hollow rituals. Let us return to our eternal culture — where the mother is Devi, the father is Shiva, and the family is the first temple.

Let us destroy the illusion that one day of performance equals a lifetime of gratitude. Let us be brutal in our clarity: Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are not innocent celebrations — they are cultural poisons, wrapped in the language of love but designed to sell emotion to the highest bidder.

Wake up. Stop copying. Return to your roots. Serve your parents — not on one Sunday, but until your last breath.