Ma... (A Mother’s Day Special)

Growing up in a bengali household, “Ma” wasn’t just a person she was an energy. She was the soft alpona on the floor before Durga Puja, the smell of gondhoraj lebu in summer, the songs playing on the radio as she folded clothes, and the warm hands that taught me how to hold a brush gently, with care.

My Ma was calm, composed, always ten steps ahead… a magician in a sari who could solve anything with a spoonful of ghee or a soft hand on my forehead. Graceful, always neatly dressed, made five-course meals look effortless, and had that look which could stop you mid-tantrum.

She never yelled.She didn’t need to… one raised eyebrow from her could make time stop.She could keep the household running like Rabindra Sangeet on loop ♾️ calm, emotional, and deeply efficient.

Now me????

I’m raising Gen Z humans, not 70’s Bengali kids.

They don’t fear my eyebrows.They fear... low battery and blue ticks not turning blue.

Being a mom today means:

Decoding cryptic one-word texts: GOAT= greatest of all times, sending 10 GIFs = I’m bored.

• Monitoring moods via Spotify playlists.

• Pretending not to notice the two hour convo with “just a friend” who conveniently texts after 9:30 PM.

• Singing to Taylor Swift in the background while I attempt to teach a class on color theory.

• Managing school gossip while prepping dinner, resizing an artwork for Instagram, and trying to remember if I washed my hair

And yet, in between their half-shared secrets, eye rolls, and hoodie disappearances… they hug me when I least expect it. They tell me I’m cool (usually😉). They ask for my opinion (and then ignore it till the shit hits the fan), and they peek into my studio and say, “This is beautiful, Mumma.

What no one tells you is that being a mom of teens means becoming an emotional first responder:

• I give pep talks mid-painting sessions.

• I decode vague texts like a CIA agent.

• I’ve learned to nod with deep concern even when I’m 40% sure they’re overreacting.

And yet… I love it.I love the chaos, the moods, the late-night heart-to-hearts convo😉I love being their person ….even when they pretend they don’t need me,

Being their mom is the hardest and funniest thing I’ve ever done.It’s also the most rewarding.

That’s when I smile and realize... I may not be as calm as my Ma, but I’m still carrying her with me.

At Arpita Art and Design Studio, my Ma is always with me — not just in memory, but in every brushstroke, every color choice, and every moment I stop to feed someone before feeding myself.

She never ran a business, but she ran life like a pro:Meals on time. Oil in the hair. Eyebrows threaded. Saree pleated. And emotions? Handled. Quietly. With rice and logic.

Now I run a studio and somewhere between handling teenage meltdowns, customer DMs, scheduling insta and linkedin post and paint that dries too fast….I hear her voice.

When I paint detailed alpona patterns, I think of her kolka designs on the floor during Puja.

When I offer snacks to a student before a class, I remember her saying, “Belly full, mind calm.”When I want to give up after a frustrating creative block, I remember her steady reply: “Shob thik hoye jaabe. Karo kotha shunbi na.”(everything will be fine,don’t listen to anyone)

Even though she may not understand what a “launch funnel” or “Instagram reel insights” are…She understands something deeper 😊how to pour love into everything you do.

She gave me my foundation. And now I pass it on through every piece of art I create and every student I mentor.

So this Mother’s Day, I celebrate her strength in my colors, her patience in my process, and her voice in my chaos especially when I’m mothering my own teen girls with a mix of rolled eyes, hugs, and occasional threats to change the Wi-Fi password.😉

Love you Ma...You are the reason Arpita Art and Design Studio doesn’t just make art it makes warmth, courage, and legacy❤️.