Sorry mother, I could not be the daughter you wanted me to be!

Being a part of a patriarchal society, I grew up listening to what a girl should and should not do (rather, I heard more about the latter than the former). Being young and vulnerable, I never questioned anyone. But deep inside, I always wanted to ask you if you never felt suffocated? Ma, I listened to everything you said and followed your advice religiously: I never replied back to my elders, never drank or smoked (although no one told me anything about it, I knew only boys are allowed to do so), never raised my voice and did a string of ‘never’ to make you proud. But I could not do it any longer. Sorry, ma, I have become a different woman than what you wanted me to be.

You were a role model for me—the perfect wife, who never said ‘no’ to anything. When I look at you, I thought ‘no’ is a word that should not be in the vocabulary of any girl. But, mother, I started saying ‘no’ to my husband when he used to come home late in an inebriated state and demanded that I should do my wifely duty. I said ‘no’ one day. And I am proud that I did so.

Mother, you were that docile daughter-in-law who never questioned what her elders asked her to do. But I stopped being the same when my mother-in-law once asked me to abort my unborn child because she was a girl. I asked her, why should I do that? Isn’t she a woman? Am I not a woman? Is being a woman a crime? I asked a lot of questions that day and, perhaps, I became a lesser woman for doing so but I earned my own respect as an individual.

Mother, you never asked my elder brothers or father any questions when they returned home late reeking of alcohol. Next morning when they woke up late, you served them breakfast like nothing happened. Your silence said, “Boys will be boys.” No, mother. Drinking or smoking is harmful for both boys and girls. When my husband started drinking, I talked to him, cajoled him and when nothing worked, I became a bad wife—I stopped talking to him, stopped cooking and made his life miserable till he changed his habit. I became everything that you are not to make my husband a better person.

I had watched you stay hungry and awake because my brother left home after a fight with father and he didn’t return for days. When you failed to convince father, you took the road of starvation to see that your family was reunited. You had to resort to this because no one ever paid heed to your voice (I say voice, because I didn't see you making any decision). Today, I take decisions for my family, and instead of writhing in pain for anything, I voice my concern and opinion openly.

Mother, let’s not judge each other for what we chose to be. I respect you for being the woman you are, and you did what you believed was right. And that is what we have in common—we did what we believed was right for us. Sorry, I could not be the daughter you wanted me to be. But I am not sorry for being the woman that I am today. A bit different than you, mother, but not a bad one!