Pitru Tharpan: The Gift of Life and the Gratitude We Owe
Stand before a mirror for a moment. Please look at your face without thinking about whether you look young or old, handsome or beautiful. We think about our face most of the time. Look instead for the people who came before you. Perhaps your grandfather had those beautiful eyes. Perhaps your grandmother’s golden smile returns whenever you smile. You may resemble your father in one way and your mother in another. Some features may remind your family of an ancestor whose photograph you have never seen.
The mirror shows one person. Yet that person carries an inheritance from generations and only God knows from when. The earth they say is 4.5 billion years old but we do not know when human beings happened on earth.
Before you earned your first rupee, received your first certificate or achieved your first success, you had already received something priceless: a human body and the opportunity to live through it. You received a home for your soul, your spirit or what you call "I", or "I am". Just imagine the "I" without this human body.
Pitru Tharpan begins, for me, with recognising this gift.
We speak so often about what we have accomplished. We say, “I built this,” “I earned this,” or “I achieved this.” Certainly, our efforts matter. But pause and ask: with what did we make those efforts? Who gave us the body, the nourishment and the early care that made effort possible? When we were a just born baby what if our parents decided to discard us?! Even if we were discarded by our parents, we should be thankful for the opportunity given. We now possess the best gift in this world. The gift of the super intelligent human body.
Our life did not begin with our achievements. It began with what we received.
Think of your earliest beginning. You began as a single cell in your mother’s womb. You could not ask for nourishment, arrange your protection or direct your own development. Nourishment reached you through your mother’s body. Gradually, eyes formed, lungs developed and a heart began to beat. A heart that was designed to pump blood close to a 100 years without maintenance or oiling. Even today, your heart works while you sleep. You do not wake each morning and instruct it to begin. We admire the engines we manufacture, yet we often overlook the extraordinary workings of the body in which we live.
Before you knew that you were alive, life was already sustaining you. Through our parents, and through the generations before them, we received this opportunity to see, hear, think, love, learn and act.
Then we were born as a helpless child. We don't even have a name. Someone fed us, cleaned us, carried us and watched over us. Someone interrupted their sleep because we could not yet take care of ourselves. Long before we could pronounce the words “thank you,” we depended on care we could neither provide nor repay.
During one horoscope consultation, a client said to me, “Taking care of me was my parents’ duty. They were doing their job. Why should I be grateful?”
That question stayed with me.
Does fulfilling a duty make an act unworthy of gratitude? A teacher has a duty to teach. Does that prevent us from being grateful for the knowledge received? Parents have a responsibility to care for their children. Does that make their care meaningless?
Duty explains the responsibility. Gratitude acknowledges what we received through its fulfilment.
We need not pretend that every parent or ancestor was perfect. Some family histories contain pain, neglect and difficult relationships. Gratitude can acknowledge the gift of life while recognising those difficulties. We can preserve what was good, learn from what was painful and take responsibility for what we pass forward.
This is where Pitru Tharpan becomes deeply meaningful.
When I sit down to perform it, I offer water with sesame seeds, rice balls and prayers according to the tradition I follow. The offering is simple, but the remembrance reaches far beyond the few people I personally knew. I always feel that the ritual (Hindu) is not as important as expressing our gratitude. The ritual trains us to focus on the pitrus.
I remember those through whom this life reached me.
My father had parents. My mother had parents. Each of them belonged to an earlier generation, and each earlier generation received life through another. Behind the names I know stand countless people whose names have disappeared from our family’s memory.
Their names may be forgotten. Their place in our history remains.
Even the New Testament records the ancestry of Jesus Christ. A genealogy places an individual life within a much longer human story. Our ancestors are our own history, and studying that history can help us understand the circumstances, choices and struggles through which we came to be.
Biologically, we carry genetic inheritance from generations before us. Beyond that, we inherit the consequences of their decisions, their learning, their work and their care. Their efforts reach us through the lives and opportunities they helped make possible.
Life is a continuing story. Each generation enters, plays its part and passes something forward. We are living our chapter now. Another generation will follow.
Some people ask me, “If rebirth is true, would our ancestors not have already taken another birth? Why should we perform Pitru Tharpan for them?”
My answer is that we cannot assume that every departed ancestor has already been reborn. Within the spiritual understanding I follow, some may return quickly, while others may await a suitable opportunity. We do not know the present condition of every departed soul.
Sri Krishna describes two paths after death in the Bhagavad Gita, verses 8.24–26. The bright path leads the knowers of Brahman to Brahman and non-return. The other leads to the lunar realm, from which there is a subsequent return. These verses distinguish between return and non-return; they do not establish that every ancestor has already taken another birth.
But consider the question more deeply. Even if an ancestor has been reborn, does our gratitude come to an end?
If someone gives you a precious gift and later moves to another town, does the gift lose its value? Does your reason for thanking them disappear because their address has changed?
Our responsibility to remember what we received does not depend entirely on knowing where the giver is now.
When I perform Pitru Tharpan, I acknowledge a relationship and an inheritance. I am saying, “Whatever your present journey may be, I remember the life that reached me through you.”
In the spiritual understanding of rebirth, human birth is a precious opportunity. The journey through other forms of life has brought us to a condition in which we can reflect on our conduct, make conscious choices, practise gratitude and pursue liberation.
We thank someone who gives us a small present. What, then, of the opportunity to live in a human body?
Gratitude is itself a form of prayer.
We honour our teachers for knowledge, our parents for life and care, and God for the blessings through which our existence is sustained. Prayer becomes more heartfelt when we remember to say “thank you” alongside “please help me.”
I believe that a prayer filled with gratitude bears fruit more readily because it begins by acknowledging what has already been given. Such gratitude also changes the person who prays. We become more attentive to blessings that familiarity has made easy to overlook.
Pitru Tharpan gives this acknowledgement a regular place in our lives.
Amavasya is traditionally set aside for ancestral offerings. Manusmriti 3.122 prescribes monthly ancestral rites at Chandrakshaya, which Medhatithi’s commentary identifies as Amavasya. The Varaha Purana, as summarised by Sri Kanchi Kamakoti Peetham, also describes Amavasya as a special day for honouring the Pitrus through offerings.
Gratitude is appropriate every day. Yet a recurring occasion helps us remember a responsibility that daily life can easily push aside. Amavasya, and the observances of Pitru Paksha, invite us to pause.
For a little while, we put down our list of demands and remember what we have received.
There is another reason why this practice matters to me.
When I sit down to perform Pitru Tharpan, my children are watching.
They see the water, the sesame seeds and the offerings. Unless I explain what I am doing, they may see only a procedure. I must help them understand the gratitude within it.
I tell them, “I am remembering those through whom I received this life. Some of them you knew. Others even I never met. But we have received something precious through them, and I do not wish to forget.”
Children learn from what we repeatedly practise. When they see us caring for living parents and honouring departed ancestors, they learn how remembrance can continue across generations.
I hope that one day they will extend the same gratitude towards us.
In Shakespeare’s King Lear, a father experiences the anguish of his children’s ingratitude. His tragedy reminds us how deeply it can hurt to give much and then feel forgotten. We cannot demand gratitude from our children. We can, however, give them an example worth remembering.
Before expecting them to acknowledge what we have given, we must show them how we acknowledge what we have received.
In my understanding of Vedic Astrology, a horoscope carries indications of the karma connected with our parents and children. Pitru Dosha and Putra Dosha are understood within this framework of responsibility across births. The planets indicate this karmic inheritance; they do not create it.
Sometimes, what we did to our parents may return to us through our relationships with our own children. This time, we occupy the place our parents once held. We may understand from the receiving end a sorrow that we once failed to recognise.
This understanding should encourage compassion and reflection. A painful family relationship alone does not establish someone’s past-life wrongdoing. The useful question is what we can do now to bring greater care, responsibility and kindness into our relationships.
Let the gratitude expressed in Pitru Tharpan continue after the ritual is complete. Let it guide how we speak to our parents, how patiently we listen and how responsibly we raise our children.
I also encourage those who are able, at least once in their lifetime, to undertake a pilgrimage to a sacred place associated with ancestral rites, such as Kasi, Gaya or Rameshwaram, and perform the appropriate offerings with knowledgeable guidance. In fact, in India we have plenty of choices of place where one can do the Pitru Tharpan but these are the 3 places where I have done Pitru Tharpan and that's why I know these places.
Such a journey can give us time to remember people we rarely speak about and to reflect on the family story we now carry forward.
But gratitude must travel home with us.
Gratitude becomes visible in the care we offer our living parents, the kindness we show our children and the respect we give our teachers. Yet, when life becomes difficult, we sometimes direct our anger towards our parents, teachers and even God—the very sources of care and guidance we once depended upon. From the perspective of karma, some troubles may be consequences of our own actions in previous births. Remembering this can help us respond with reflection rather than blame, and seek their guidance with gratitude even during difficult times.
Look into the mirror once more.
Behind your reflection is a history longer than you can name. Ahead of you are generations you may never meet. What you receive and what you pass on connect the two.
When my children see me perform Pitru Tharpan, I want them to understand that connection. I want them to know that remembering our ancestors can help us become more responsible towards one another today.
And as the water leaves my hands, my prayer is simple:
“I remember the gift of life that reached me through you. I am grateful. May I care well for what I have received and pass it forward with kindness. I will do whatever it takes to nourish, keep healthy the mind and body that was given to me. I will not smoke and soul the priceless lungs that connect to my heart. I will not spoil it with alcohol or drugs and unhealthy habits. I will take responsibility for my children and my family and provide for them in the same way my ancestors did. I will also consider all human beings in this world as my extended family.”
What Should I Thank My Departed Father or Mother or Grandfather or Grandmother For?
When I sit down to perform Pitru Tharpan, I remember my father’s name and offer water. I remember the date he passed away in Vijaya Hospital. That was one of the most unfortunate day of my life. From then until now I constantly remember what I received through him. I remember that Tithi he passed away. His name is Elancheri Balan. To me he is not just a name.
Many gifts arrived so regularly that we never recognised them as gifts. Food appeared on our plate. Clothes were bought as we grew. School and College fees were paid when we had no income. There was a roof above us, and nobody asked the little child to pay rent.
On Amavasya and during Pitru Paksha, we can bring these memories into our prayers.
“Thank you for the opportunity to live.”
Through you and my mother, I received this body and a place in the human family. Before I possessed anything of my own, I had already received life.
“Thank you for the food I ate.”
As a child, I knew when I was hungry. I did not always know what it cost you to fill my plate. I remember the work behind those meals.
“Thank you for the home that sheltered me.”
I slept, played and grew under a roof I had done nothing to earn. What I called home was a responsibility someone else carried.
“Thank you for the clothes I wore.”
The school uniform, the festival dress and the shoes I outgrew were small events in my childhood, but repeated expenses in your life.
“Thank you for my education.”
For the books, school fees, college expenses and opportunities to learn. The knowledge I use today was made possible, in part, by sacrifices I may never have understood.
“Thank you for the happiness of childhood.”
For the toys, games, outings and celebrations. I remember the moments when your effort became my enjoyment.
“Thank you for introducing me to faith and tradition.”
In many families, the father passes on religious customs and the mother gives the child their first language. Through both, we receive ways to pray, speak, belong and understand the world.
“Thank you for the guidance you gave.”
Some advice I accepted; some I resisted. With age, I understand more of what you were trying to teach me.
“Thank you for the burdens I did not see.”
I knew my needs. I did not always know your worries. I remember that behind the person I called ‘Father’ was a human being carrying responsibilities, limitations and hopes.
“Thank you for what reached me through your parents.”
Much of what you gave me had first been given to you. Through you, my grandparents and earlier ancestors also contributed to my life.
“May I use what I received responsibly.”
Let my gratitude become visible in how I care for my family, respect my teachers and help others. May I pass forward something worthy of remembrance.
Our inheritance extends beyond our own family. We live in homes we did not invent, speak languages we did not create and use knowledge accumulated over centuries. Civilisation moves forward through the contributions of countless people. Gratitude encourages us to preserve what is valuable, improve what needs changing and fulfil our responsibilities towards those who follow.
In Vedic Astrology, the 9th house brings together themes of fortune, father, teachers, dharma and faith. For me, this offers a meaningful reminder: our fortune is connected with how we recognise and use the blessings received through others.
Prayer can begin with that recognition. Before eating, we can pause and thank God for provision, and remember the people whose labour brought the meal to us. This is the spirit of divine providence—the sustaining care we learn to acknowledge.
During Pitru Tharpan, let us remember particular gifts, particular sacrifices and particular moments of care. Gratitude becomes heartfelt when we can say what we are grateful for.
“Father, I understand more today than I understood as a child. I remember what I received through you. May my life express the thanks I did not always know how to say.”
Replace the word Father with Mother, with Grand Father, Grand Mother or Great Grand Father, Great Grand Mother and use the general word Pitru.
Why is Amavasya - The New Moon important (No Moon)
Amavasya is special for Pitru Tharpan because Hindu tradition specifically sets aside this lunar day for ancestral offerings. Its significance has a scriptural basis, alongside the traditional connection between the Moon and the ancestors.
Manusmriti 3.122 prescribes monthly ancestral rites at Chandrakshaya, the disappearance of the Moon. Medhatithi’s commentary explicitly identifies this as Amavasya. The verse concerns monthly Shraddha following Pitru Yajna, establishing the new Moon as a recurring occasion for honouring ancestors.
The Varaha Purana, as summarised by Sri Kanchi Kamakoti Peetham, gives a traditional explanation: Brahma designated Amavasya as a special day for the Pitrus. The account specifically mentions offering water with sesame seeds and kusha grass on the monthly Amavasyas for their satisfaction.
The presiding deities of Amavasya Tithi are the Pitrus (पितरः)—the ancestral beings. They preside collectively over this tithi. This is the most important reason why Amavasya is the best day for Pitru thanking and worship.
Rebirth happens due to the Moon (Mind)
Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 8, verses 24–26. Sri Krishna describes two paths after death: one leading to non-return, and another leading to return. The wording is more precise than saying the Moon causes rebirth or the Sun causes Moksha.
Verse 8.24 — The bright path, leading to Brahman
अग्निर्ज्योतिरहः शुक्लः षण्मासा उत्तरायणम् ।
तत्र प्रयाता गच्छन्ति ब्रह्म ब्रह्मविदो जनाः ॥ ८.२४ ॥
Meaning in simple English: Fire, light, daytime, the bright fortnight and the six months of Uttarayana mark the path by which those who know Brahman attain Brahman. The reference to the Sun here is through Uttarayana, its northward course.
Verse 8.25 — The lunar path, followed by return (rebirth)
धूमो रात्रिस्तथा कृष्णः षण्मासा दक्षिणायनम् ।
तत्र चान्द्रमसं ज्योतिर्योगी प्राप्य निवर्तते ॥ ८.२५ ॥
Meaning in simple English: Smoke, night, the dark fortnight and the six months of Dakshinayana mark the other path. Following it, the yogi reaches the lunar light and subsequently returns. The key phrase is “चान्द्रमसं ज्योतिः … प्राप्य निवर्तते”—“having reached the lunar light … returns.”
Remember 99.999% of us are going to be reborn!?
When we think about rebirth, we should ask ourselves: “What kind of world am I helping to create—a world into which I may one day return?”
In the understanding of rebirth, we may once again begin life as a helpless child. We will depend on someone to feed us, protect us, teach us and love us. The responsibility we expect from others then is the responsibility we must practise towards others now.
If we encourage selfishness, neglect and ingratitude, we leave those conditions for the next generation—and perhaps for our own return. When we practise dharma, care for our parents, raise our children responsibly and honour our teachers, we help build a world in which a helpless child can be safe.
The lunar path is associated with return to birth in the Bhagavad Gita. Amavasya, traditionally dedicated to the Pitrus, marks the close of one lunar cycle and the threshold of another. We can therefore see it symbolically as a moment connecting what has passed with what is yet to begin. The Moon will emerge again; another generation will enter the continuing story of life.
Pitru Tharpan brings our attention to that connection. We remember those whose care made our lives possible, while reflecting on the care we owe to those who follow. Our ancestors once prepared a place for us. What kind of place are we preparing for the next child?
The gratitude we express on Amavasya should help us live more responsibly throughout the month. Let us create a world with more kindness, more gratitude and more dharma—a world into which we would be willing to return, even as a helpless newborn.
“We remember those who came before us, and live responsibly for those who will come after us.” Stay connected to the concept of Pitru Tharpan in everyday life and not just on Amavasya day alone, or during Pitru Paksha only. Care for living parents, grandparents, elders who are helpless due to old age, remembering departed ancestors, and expressing our gratitude through our actions.
By Guruji E K Dhilip Kumar
Email : ekdhilipkumar@gmail.com
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