Long before work taught us, our mothers did: Industry leaders reflect

For as long as I can remember, my mother has been in motion. She is a homemaker who raised my brother and me largely on her own while my father travelled often for work, holding together the essence of our home with a kind of discipline that rarely announced itself. As a child, I could sense the weight she carried, even if I did not yet have the language for it. There was always something that needed doing, someone who needed tending to, some detail that could not be forgotten. Rest was rarely a priority. Routine was.

Years later, with both of us grown and working, her days have softened a little. There is more room now to pause. But the qualities that shaped our home remain unchanged. Her discipline is still instinctive. Her empathy still arrives before words do. Her organisational skills remain almost rigorous. She writes everything down in the notebook she carries everywhere: grocery lists, recipes, reminders, clothes sent for ironing, the small operational details that keep life moving. Nothing escapes her. Neither do people. She can tell, often before I can, when I am tired, withdrawn or overwhelmed. She knows when to ask questions and when to simply sit beside me. There is a steadiness to that kind of care that stays with you.

I did not inherit her discipline in full, and I would be lying if I said I matched her orderliness. But I have spent enough time around her to recognise the imprint. I write everything down. Ask anyone I work with, and they will tell you I have gone through notepads full of interview notes, stray thoughts, deadlines, follow-ups and half-formed ideas. I try to move with intention. I try to be organised, even when the day resists structure. And in the middle of the newsroom routine, I try to be empathetic, with colleagues, with PR professionals, with the people behind the stories.

She never sat me down to teach me these things. I learnt them by watching. By observing how she moved through pressure, how she made care look effortless, how she kept going.

As it turns out, that inheritance is not unique. Across advertising and marketing, many professionals carry similar imprints from the women who raised them, habits so deeply absorbed they now show up in the way they lead, create and work. For some, it is a mother’s bias for action and lifelong curiosity that still drives ambition. For others, it is the ability to stay calm under pressure, to listen for what people mean rather than only what they say, or to question everything before accepting it as truth. This Mother’s Day, industry voices reflect on the traits they inherited from their mothers, and how those lessons continue to shape the way they show up, at work and in life.

Edited Excerpts:

Nisha Singhania, Founding Partner, Infectious Advertising

My mother is a doer; give her the impossible, and she’ll quietly find a way to make it happen. I’ve inherited that bias for action in my work. But just as importantly, I’ve learnt from her a deep curiosity and commitment to keep learning. Whether it was picking up calligraphy years ago or recently learning Urdu, she’s always evolving. That mindset is what pushed me to step back into a classroom at Harvard because growth, as she’s shown me, is a lifelong pursuit.

Prachal Joshie, Sr. Content Strategy Lead, Wife

My mother never took what people said at face value; she paid attention to what they meant. That stayed with me. At work, I’m always looking for the gap between what people say and what they actually feel. That’s usually where the real insight and the ideas live. 

Rashi Ray, Director, Response India 

I think the one thing that I am trying to learn from my mother is her ability to carry people. Without making it feel like an effort.

She’s deeply kind and generous, always thinking of others. But what really has always impressed me is her honesty. She can say the most difficult things in the softest, most disarming, almost childlike way. Very simply, always with good intentions. It comes from a genuinely good place, and you can feel that. I don’t know if I’ve fully learned that yet, but I’m practising.

If there’s one thing I know I’ve inherited, it’s her intention. When I’m working with someone, I genuinely want them to do well. I’m always rooting for them. It sounds like a small thing, but I’ve realised it makes such a difference.

Swati Nathani, Co-Founder of Team Pumpkin

My mother carries pressure without ever announcing it. I grew up in a small city, in a home where she held everything together through seasons most people would have folded under. She never raised her voice about how hard it was. She just kept showing up, softer than the situation deserved.

That shaped how I lead. In an agency, something breaks every single day. The instinct is to perform the weight of it, to show you care by looking burdened. She taught me the opposite. Stay quiet, hold the room, find the next step. People feel safer around steadiness than around urgency.

She never called any of it resilience. She just lived it, one ordinary day after another.

Vinod Kunj, Founder & CCO, Thought Blurb Communications

One thing I’ve always admired about my mother is her ability to stay calm and not react negatively to people, even in difficult situations. Growing up, I noticed she never spoke pejoratively about people nor belittled them, even when they may have deserved it.

Her belief was simple: people will be who they are, you have to protect who you are! You do not need to reflect on why someone spoke or acted the way they did. You own your action, you be responsible for that. 

I’ll be honest, I haven’t always been able to follow this fully. In fact, in my younger days, it was impossible to do so. But in the last few years, I’ve consciously started practising it. Instead of reacting instantly, I try to pause, assess the situation, and respond in a way that feels right to me.

It’s a lesson from her that has become incredibly valuable in my work and interactions today.

Vaibhav Pandit, Founder & Creative Director at ADbhoot

My mother, Devyani Pandit, was a teacher of Gujarati and Sanskrit, so my first lessons in language did not come from advertising, copywriting or any classroom of creativity. They came from home.

As a child, even her scolding had great copy value. She would never simply say “don’t do this.” She would bring in a kahavat, or some beautifully sharp saying that made the ‘daant’ more memorable than the mistake itself. At that time, I only knew I was in trouble. Much later, I realised I was also being trained in language, rhythm, wit and expression.

The writer in me, I believe, was quietly shaped by her long before I entered advertising.

The other thing I deeply admire is her spirit. After retiring at the age of 60, she started learning painting. Not casually, but with real passion, discipline and detailing. Today, she has already had three solo exhibitions. And whatever she earned from her art, she donated to support a student pursuing fine arts. Today, that student is settled and living with dignity. 

From her, I have inherited my love for language and my josh for life. She taught me that learning should never lose its excitement, passion should never become passive, and success becomes far more beautiful when it creates a way forward for someone else.

Yash Chandiramani, Founder & Chief Strategist, Admatazz

I’ve inherited a strong scientific temper from my mother, the need to question, test, and not take things at face value.

She was a senior teacher of Physics in an ICSE school for years, so growing up, nothing was ever accepted without understanding the “why” behind it. That’s shaped how I approach work today. I don’t follow trends or industry narratives blindly; I look for evidence, underlying mechanisms, and whether something will actually drive results.

For example, in marketing, where a lot of decisions are driven by instinct or what’s currently popular, I push teams to validate ideas against data, past patterns, or established principles before committing budgets. It takes a bit more effort up front, but it usually saves a lot more later.

Another big influence was seeing her work with students with learning disabilities, breaking down complex concepts into simple, understandable ideas without diluting them. That’s shaped how I think about communication: if something can’t be explained simply, it probably isn’t understood well enough.

And then there’s reinvention. After two decades in education, she moved into corporate behavioural consulting and coaching senior leaders. It made me realise how it’s never too late for a fresh start. No matter how scary it seems. Really helpful for the lesson for today’s AI-disrupted world. 

Lastly, I’ve picked up her bias for hard, honest work. The simple rule being, if something doesn’t sit right, it’s probably not worth doing, no matter how attractive the upside looks.