From being a spectator, to being a participant. From wondering how people let themselves get bullied, to thinking how to prevent myself from getting bullied without hurting sentiments. It’s tough, I finally agree. And I now see why others succumb.
It’s tough not because one is relatively weak, but because one is never strong enough to hurt those one loves.
Marriage -- an institution that has been coming down the ages, with its own set of rules, its own stamp of patriarchy and I am finally going to step into it, with my principles of an emancipated woman intact but my actions unsteady under the assault of emotions unfelt before.
Suddenly I am surrounded by his relatives, who obviously love me because he loves me but who also expect me to behave in a certain way or do certain things befitting the bahu. Well, it’s not as bad as it sounds. There is no “ghunghat” or “you can’t work”, not that they would have gone far with any such demands, but there are assumptions such as “you can’t take off the nowa”!
Kind of weird, but I couldn’t say a thing. Nowa is the sign of a married woman and linked to the husband’s life by prejudice and tradition. Even I felt weak under the strength of the belief.
I cursed myself for my weakness. A girl known for calling a spade, a spade, I was shocked at my hypocrisy. To compensate, I thought -- well let them say what they want to, I’ll do as I wish.
But really, let’s face it. I was thinking like a loser. The truth was I couldn’t say a thing, firstly out of respect, secondly out of fear and thirdly because it was after all only a nowa, a bangle. Now I sound like the Saraf girl who stopped wearing green after marriage and told me very calmly “I can wear it once I have a son, it’s only a colour”.
Its’ not only a bangle just like it’s not only a colour. It’s about principles. Why does the society require a woman to wear or not wear certain things to show the presence or absence of a man or son in her life?
But, sigh, I am shackled too. I might have the comfort of knowing that I can after all do as I wish because my doing does not depend on something as abstract as “once I have a son”, but I still have a problem.
I don’t want to do as I wish, concealed from the people who wish me to do it otherwise. They need to be told why things are being done or not done in the accepted way. Only, now I realize this cannot be done in my usual matter-of-fact way.
But it will be done nonetheless. I will make the little change I promised I would in a woman’s life, in her state… and I will begin with myself.
It’s tough not because one is relatively weak, but because one is never strong enough to hurt those one loves.
Marriage -- an institution that has been coming down the ages, with its own set of rules, its own stamp of patriarchy and I am finally going to step into it, with my principles of an emancipated woman intact but my actions unsteady under the assault of emotions unfelt before.
Suddenly I am surrounded by his relatives, who obviously love me because he loves me but who also expect me to behave in a certain way or do certain things befitting the bahu. Well, it’s not as bad as it sounds. There is no “ghunghat” or “you can’t work”, not that they would have gone far with any such demands, but there are assumptions such as “you can’t take off the nowa”!
Kind of weird, but I couldn’t say a thing. Nowa is the sign of a married woman and linked to the husband’s life by prejudice and tradition. Even I felt weak under the strength of the belief.
I cursed myself for my weakness. A girl known for calling a spade, a spade, I was shocked at my hypocrisy. To compensate, I thought -- well let them say what they want to, I’ll do as I wish.
But really, let’s face it. I was thinking like a loser. The truth was I couldn’t say a thing, firstly out of respect, secondly out of fear and thirdly because it was after all only a nowa, a bangle. Now I sound like the Saraf girl who stopped wearing green after marriage and told me very calmly “I can wear it once I have a son, it’s only a colour”.
Its’ not only a bangle just like it’s not only a colour. It’s about principles. Why does the society require a woman to wear or not wear certain things to show the presence or absence of a man or son in her life?
But, sigh, I am shackled too. I might have the comfort of knowing that I can after all do as I wish because my doing does not depend on something as abstract as “once I have a son”, but I still have a problem.
I don’t want to do as I wish, concealed from the people who wish me to do it otherwise. They need to be told why things are being done or not done in the accepted way. Only, now I realize this cannot be done in my usual matter-of-fact way.
But it will be done nonetheless. I will make the little change I promised I would in a woman’s life, in her state… and I will begin with myself.
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