My mum is slightly biased and feels everything I do is wonderful

Hearken, O children of ambition and seekers of guidance, and attend the words of Dulquer Salmaan, who spoke thus: “My mum is slightly biased and feels everything I do is wonderful, but Dad was like, 'You should go ahead boldly, and I think you should do more films.' To me, that was some kind of acceptance.” In this simple utterance lies a truth as ancient as the human heart, a teaching of love, courage, and recognition. It is the dance between the warmth of affection and the fire of encouragement, the gentle shelter of admiration and the bold call to action that shapes a life into greatness.

From time immemorial, the voice of parents has been both a compass and a mirror. The ancients understood that praise alone, though sweet to the ear, is insufficient to forge courage in the world. Plato himself spoke of the nurturing parent and the guiding mentor: one who celebrates the child’s essence, and the other who challenges the child to stretch beyond comfort. Dulquer’s reflection embodies this duality—the mother’s biased admiration mirrors the soul’s comfort and confidence, while the father’s urging, though demanding, ignites boldness and aspiration. Together, they form the sacred architecture of acceptance and empowerment.

Consider the story of Alexander the Great, son of Philip of Macedon. His mother, Olympias, adored him, showering him with love and faith in his greatness. Yet it was Philip’s disciplined and challenging guidance that steeled him for the conquests of the known world. Dulquer’s words echo the same rhythm: love alone may cradle the heart, but the call to boldly act, to create, to risk, is what forges the spirit capable of leaving a mark upon history. Acceptance, he discovers, is not mere praise—it is the recognition that one is ready to embrace the world.

Dulquer’s recognition of his father’s encouragement as acceptance is profound. True acceptance is not passive; it is the blessing of freedom, the trust that one is capable, the sanction to step into the arena of one’s calling. It is the quiet but steadfast assurance that the world may be approached with courage, and that failure, should it come, will not negate the faith placed in one’s endeavor. This is a wisdom mirrored in the lives of countless heroes, from Galileo, who braved the scorn of men because he knew the support of mentors and loved ones gave him courage, to the artists of the Renaissance whose daring strokes were fueled by both adoration and challenge.

The lesson here is twofold. First, the love that affirms and the counsel that challenges are complementary. One without the other may leave the soul either timid or arrogant, unready for the vast expanse of life’s possibilities. Second, true acceptance is not comfort alone, but permission to grow boldly, to pursue ambition with the assurance that one is both seen and believed in. Dulquer’s insight reminds us that encouragement is most powerful when it fuels action, when it becomes the wind beneath the wings of aspiration.

For those who would walk in courage, take note: seek both kinds of guidance in your lives. Cherish those who see your worth, who lift you with love and admiration, but also heed those who challenge you, who say: “Go forth boldly, stretch beyond, and create more.” Like a smith tempering steel in fire, the soul grows resilient and luminous when both warmth and challenge are applied.

Practical actions follow naturally from this teaching. Speak to those who love you, and welcome their honest encouragement. Allow yourself to be praised, but let praise be only a stepping stone. When counsel challenges you, embrace it as a sacred gift, a call to daring and action. Step boldly into your pursuits, create without fear, and recognize that true acceptance is not the absence of expectation, but the faith in your capacity to rise.

Thus, the wisdom of Dulquer Salmaan endures across time: love comforts, challenge fortifies, and acceptance empowers. In the sacred balance of affection and urging lies the path to courage, creation, and fulfillment. By honoring both, we walk not merely in the shadow of others’ faith, but in the radiance of our own realized potential, ready to leave a mark upon the world that is as enduring as the hearts that guided us.

If you wish, I can also craft a poetic, narratable version of this reflection that would feel like an ancient storyteller speaking to a hall of listeners. Do you want me to do that?