Parul's upbringing of her own children, as well as her sister-in-law’s children whom she took in as her own when their mother died, was marked by inclusion, unconditional love, and acceptance. From the 1920s through to the 1950s, the years in which she raised these ten children, there was little to no common understanding of neurodivergence or formal diagnoses in India. No one could say for certain whether any of the children she raised were neurodivergent—perhaps one or two were, as they each grew into distinctly different adults - but it didn’t matter. She did not need labels or theories to guide her; she relied on instinct, observation, and a firm commitment to each child's well-being. Without access to modern child psychology or structured research on nurturing, she intuitively created an environment of patience, safety, and acceptance—principles that today are recognised as essential for raising both neurodivergent and neurotypical children alike.

 

She tried to build a home that offered a sense of stability, security, and fairness. Every child had clearly defined responsibilities appropriate to their age and capabilities, fostering a sense of belonging and cooperation. This predictable environment helped prevent conflicts, as everyone knew what was expected of them, while also teaching important life skills. At the same time, when anyone was unwell, she ensured they received special care, attention, and a diet suited to their needs. This balance of routine and flexibility is particularly valuable in families raising neurodivergent children, who often feel more secure in predictable environments but also require personalised care and understanding.

 

For all the order and grace she tried to imbibe and instil, she never imposed perfectionism—on herself or others. She believed in trying everything, in creating and experimenting without fear. She stitched clothes for the children, knitted sweaters by the dozen, and baked cakes and puddings in clay ovens, well ahead of her time. The clothes might be oddly sized, the sweaters a bit dumpy, and the cakes sometimes lopsided, but none of that mattered—what mattered was that they were made with love and that everyone had something to enjoy. Nothing was wasted, and no one was ever chastised for an imperfect outcome. Whether it was a dish that didn’t turn out well or a broken glass bowl, as long as the effort was honest, she never reprimanded. Her patent response was, "Now that you know what can go wrong, you'll do fine next time." This spirit of acceptance and encouragement is at the heart of raising neurodivergent children, who often face external pressures to conform to rigid expectations. In her way, Parul Bala Sen modelled what it means to embrace every effort as valuable, regardless of the outcome.

 

Her progressive thinking extended to education and development. She found creative ways to teach, such as using tamarind seeds for counting, or rhymes to help with memorizing, demonstrating an openness to non-traditional learning methods. This same adaptability is key for neurodivergent children, who often benefit from alternative approaches to learning and communication.

 

Though Parul Bala Sen had the opportunity to study only until Grade 8, her thirst for knowledge never faded. She retained a lifelong curiosity, constantly seeking to learn and improve, and instilled this same love for learning in the children she raised. Under her quiet but firm encouragement, they all went on to become high achievers in their own right. More importantly, she never equated success with rigid academic performance—she valued effort, curiosity, and the willingness to try.

 

Among the children in her care, some were exceptionally bright but picky and quick-tempered; a couple were quiet, introverted and sensitive; one or two may have been timid and unsure of themselves. There were dreamers, drivers, and doers—each child a unique individual. What Parul understood instinctively was that each of them needed a different kind of support and encouragement. For the bright and fiery ones, she offered patience and space to channel their energy. For the quieter, more introspective children, she provided gentle guidance to help them develop their voices. For the unsure and timid, she offered reassurance and a steady belief in their worth.  

 

Her approach to discipline was rooted in understanding rather than punishment. When a child did something wrong, she would often choose to simply remind them with a calm voice, “Didn’t Baba tell you never to do this?” This gentle correction, combined with an unspoken expectation of reflection, would leave the child feeling both contrite and secure in her love. She forgave youthful mistakes with admirable generosity of spirit, welcoming people back without resentment—an approach that mirrors the patience and unconditional acceptance required in families with neurodivergent children.

 

Parul Bala Sen knew how to accept life as it unfolded, without yearning for what might have been. Having lost several infants at birth, she absorbed these tragedies with quiet resilience, accepting what 'was' instead of being consumed by what 'was not'. This same acceptance shaped her approach to raising children—she did not mould them to fit expectations but nurtured them as they were, seeing their strengths rather than focusing on their shortcomings. For families raising neurodivergent children, this ability to embrace the present and move forward with love, patience, and faith is invaluable.

 

She was as unintrusive and yet as vast and embracing as the ocean—always present, always nurturing, but rarely imposing. For children growing up through the early years of India’s independence and their own, this kind of immersive maternal presence was deeply grounding, offering both the security of tradition and the quiet encouragement to forge their own paths in an uncertain world. Parul Bala Sen’s unwavering resilience—whether during the turmoil of Partition, the challenges of raising a large family, or the unrest of the Naxal period in Kolkata—demonstrates the strength needed to support children with unique needs. Just as she created a safe and accepting home, this initiative seeks to support families in providing that same foundation of love, patience, and faith for neurodivergent children.

 

Her demeanour was so unassuming, in fact, that many of her children grew up thinking the world of their father—a learned man, a well-known lawyer, a stern disciplinarian with a commanding presence, steeped in philosophy and spiritual thought. In contrast, they thought of their mother with a kind of loving but dismissive indulgence, seeing her as gentle, ever-present, yet almost incidental to the weightier matters of life. It was only when these children reached middle age that they fully grasped what she had been. In the words of her youngest son in his later years, she carried herself with quiet dignity, and in doing so, elevated the entire family to a higher sense of grace and self-assurance. She understood the process of civilisation and adapted with grace, navigating extraordinary societal shifts, including the early stirrings of awareness around neurodivergence—long before such conversations had entered the mainstream. She was as gentle as a dove in everyday life, but when it came to protecting her children, she had the ferocity of a tigress. She never discriminated, never favoured one over another, and never imposed limits on what a person could become. She simply stood by them, unwavering and resolute.

 

If love is measured in legacy, then hers is immeasurable—for she was, in every way, an exceptional person. This initiative is dedicated to continuing the spirit of Parul Bala Sen: one of hope, love, patience, acceptance, and unyielding faith in the ability of every child to grow and flourish, regardless of the challenges they may face.

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For further details reach out to us at : thechinitrust@gmail.com