Let’s be honest: Parenting today often feels like walking on a tightrope over a pit of judgment. Say too much and you're “controlling.” Say too little and you're “absent.” And in all this confusion, something far more dangerous is quietly happening. We’re raising children who know how to get what they want—but not what it means to deserve it. We’re raising Ravans, not Rams.

The Real Crisis: Entitlement Without Responsibility

Teach them responsibility, not just how to get things.

Ravan had everything—power, knowledge, even devotion. But he lacked one thing: the ability to listen when someone said “enough.” He couldn’t hear boundaries over his own brilliance. And that’s what entitlement looks like in modern form. It’s not just about tantrums over gadgets. It’s the inability to take feedback. The reflex to blame others. The belief that rules apply to everyone else.
Rama, on the other hand, knew his power—but never used it to overpower. He listened more than he spoke. He made choices that hurt him deeply, because he understood something most adults today struggle with: What’s right is rarely what’s easy. And if you want your child to grow into someone who doesn’t collapse the first time life says no—teach them that distinction. Gently. Repeatedly. Unapologetically.

“Because I Love You” Also Means “I’ll Let You Fall”

Failure prepares them for life, not a perfect cushion.

We’ve confused love with constant cushioning. But Rama wasn’t cushioned. His father loved him deeply—and still sent him to the forest. Kaikeyi, blinded by fear, still believed she was doing what was right. The point isn’t who was wrong. The point is: Even divine children don’t get perfect upbringings. But they grow through them. Your child doesn’t need perfection. They need preparation.
They need to know failure isn’t a personal attack. That being corrected isn’t being unloved. That sometimes, you will say no—not because you want to hurt them, but because you're preparing them for a world that will. And if you shield them from every hardship now, you’re only postponing the pain for a later time—when they’re less ready, and the consequences are higher.

Stop Raising Kings. Raise Servants First

Leadership comes from serving others, not entitlement.

Rama was born into royalty. But the first thing he learned was how to serve—his teachers, his people, even his enemies with respect. That’s what made him a leader. We, however, are raising children with crowns before conscience. We reward charm over character. Talent over temperament. Achievement over accountability.
But the Ramayana doesn’t admire Rama because he won a war. It reveres him because he upheld dharma—even when he had every reason not to. He placed truth above his own comfort. And in doing so, he taught us what it truly means to lead. If your child never learns how to wait their turn, lose gracefully, or sit with discomfort, no trophy will ever save them from the hollowness that follows.

The Greatest Legacy Isn’t Success—It’s Self-Mastery

Teach them self-control and wisdom over success and achievement.

Every parent wants to leave their child something valuable. But the most valuable thing you can leave behind isn’t land, money, or degrees. It’s clarity. The clarity to choose wisely when no one is watching. The strength to walk away when pride says fight. The humility to admit wrong. The courage to be kind.
That’s what the Ramayana teaches—through Rama, through Sita, even through Ravan. That greatness isn’t about how much you achieve. It’s about how much of yourself you understand and control. And that kind of strength? It’s not taught in one lesson. It’s passed down in how we live. In how we treat others. In what we allow, what we correct, and what we choose to become ourselves.

So, What Will Your Child Remember?
Years from now, your child may not remember every rule you enforced or every bedtime story you skipped. But they will remember how you responded when they made mistakes. When they failed. When they questioned their worth. Will you raise them to believe they are owed something by the world? Or will you raise them to become someone the world needs?
Because in the end, we don’t need more kings with ten heads of cleverness and no heart. We need more Rams—anchored, accountable, and quietly powerful. And that begins not with a lecture, but with a choice—yours.