Kunickaa Sadanand gets Father's Day salute from son, spotlight on single moms

Kunickaa Sadanand gets Father's Day salute from son, spotlight on single moms Aug, 25 2025

A Father's Day tribute that flips the script

A Father's Day post that went viral didn’t thank a dad. It thanked a mom. Ayaan Lall, son of actor Kunickaa Sadanand, used the day to celebrate the person who raised him alone — and, by extension, all single mothers who carry both roles without applause.

On Instagram, Ayaan shared a short video stitched with warm, everyday moments: hugs at home, smiles in cars, quick clips from years that pass too fast. He framed it with a simple message for “all the single mothers,” then spoke from the gut. He said his mother parked her own life to put him first, stayed steady when people didn’t get it, and taught him how to love without keeping score. He credits her for setting his standards high — not out of ego, but because he grew up watching consistency, care, and grit.

The tribute landed because it was specific. It wasn’t about grand statements or lines for effect. It was that very real picture of a kid raised by one parent who did everything: the school runs and sick days, the bills and birthdays, the late-night worry and early-morning resolve. That mix hits home for many in India, where single parenthood is often carried quietly, with a brave face and very little backup.

People responded to the post for what it was — a thank-you note that understood the job. Some praised the way he honored the invisible labor that keeps a household standing. Others saw it as a reminder that on days built around one parent, there’s room to salute the parent who has been both.

Kunickaa Sadanand’s journey and why it struck a chord

For those who remember 1990s Hindi cinema and TV, Kunickaa Sadanand was a familiar face. She worked across genres, logged more than 100 screen credits, and held her own in crowded ensembles. In Sooraj Barjatya’s family drama “Hum Saath Saath Hain,” she played Shanti, a steady presence in a film stacked with stars. On television, she drew attention in “Swabhimaan,” portraying a teenage mother in a role that wasn’t typical for the era — layered, flawed, and grounded.

After her peak acting years, Kunickaa didn’t stick to one lane. She branched out into advocacy, production, music, entrepreneurship, and social work. That shift matters in this story, because it shows what Ayaan’s message hints at: she wasn’t just balancing one big career with parenting, she was juggling several. The throughline was the same — show up, do the work, keep going.

The tribute also touched a broader cultural conversation. Each June, Father’s Day posts from kids of single mothers spark debate: Should the day stay only about fathers? Or is it fair — and maybe overdue — to salute mothers who have been the dad too? The arguments repeat, but lived experience keeps breaking through. For many, the title matters less than the job done. If one parent has played both parts, gratitude finds its way on any calendar.

Ayaan’s words zeroed in on values rather than labels. He described love as something you give fully, without tracking returns — a habit he says he learned by watching his mother. That’s not a social media line; it’s a worldview shaped by long years of seeing a parent carry heavy loads without asking for applause. It’s also why the post reads as more than a holiday greeting. It’s a quiet explanation of how he became who he is.

Kunickaa’s story is also about range. In the industry, she moved between film and TV at a time when doing both wasn’t always easy. Offscreen, she built new roles for herself — advocate, producer, singer, entrepreneur, social activist — while raising a child solo. None of that makes headlines day to day. But when a grown son steps forward and says, this is the person who made me, people tend to listen.

There’s another layer here: visibility. Single mothers are everywhere, yet their stories don’t always get space in mainstream pop culture beyond stereotypes. A post like this — affectionate, specific, and proud — chips away at that. It shows a family that doesn't fit the old mold, and it does so without drama or pity. Just recognition.

For readers who want a quick refresher on Kunickaa’s work and why this moment resonates, here’s the short list:

  • 1990s screen presence: Appeared in more than 100 films, often in supporting roles that anchored big-cast stories.
  • Notable credits: Played Shanti in “Hum Saath Saath Hain”; stood out in TV drama “Swabhimaan” as a teenage mother.
  • Beyond acting: Built a portfolio across advocacy, production, singing, entrepreneurship, and social causes.
  • Personal milestone: Raised her son, Ayaan Lall, as a single mother while continuing her professional life.

Why do posts like Ayaan’s resonate this much? Because they make the invisible visible. Parenting is private work. It happens at kitchen tables and bus stops, in waiting rooms and on late-night calls. It rarely makes the highlight reels. When someone pauses to name it — not with expensive gifts but with honest words — it can feel like relief for anyone who’s been carrying a lot without complaint.

There’s also the reality that kids raised by single parents often learn certain skills early: independence, empathy, and a knack for reading the room. Many grow up with a clear sense of money, time, and the trade-offs adults make. Ayaan connected those dots openly. His post didn’t just say “thanks”; it mapped the line from his mother’s choices to his own character.

In the film world, where image can overshadow intent, this is a different kind of spotlight. It’s not about a comeback, a release date, or a red carpet. It’s about a bond — and a public record of it. That may be why the tribute traveled beyond fan circles and into broader feeds. It wasn’t selling anything. It was naming something familiar: that one person who kept the lights on, the fridge stocked, and the hope intact.

Kunickaa Sadanand has worn many hats on and off screen. On Father’s Day, one rose above the rest: the parent who stayed, decided, and did the work. The applause, this time, came from the person who knows that story best.