Papa, You Sold Me Too Cheap! I Don’t Blame My In-laws For My Life, I Blame You

“I have realized that my freedom matters much more to me than we guessed it did.” A letter from a disappointed daughter to her father.

Papa,

You spent millions on my marriage, getting me married to a family that earns millions monthly. How dare I call it cheap then? Every life has a value and you valued me decent enough, right? Haven’t you tried to ensure that I will forever have a secure life and not a pinch of pain ever touch me?

And it’s all your fault. It’s your fault that you raised both your daughter and son in the same way only till a certain age, and things changed after that.

You taught me that I don’t need any religion to be happy, but here I am, forced to pray to the same god every morning! You encouraged me to take those classes on analytics and software, but here I am, trying to make those round rotis and perfect sabzis on most of the days!

Size of your clothes do not matter because it has nothing to do with intelligence and consciousness, right? Papa, my size of sleeves to size of tops to size of bottoms are measured every day. I can’t have a bare hand or forehead, or decide what jewellery I want to wear or not wear. Do you know that I am thoroughly checked for everything I have worn before I make any public appearance? My life has become a series of arguments on bindis and chudis every day.

Is this what I was raised for? To discuss how black/white make a bad colour and red makes sense?

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I see all those excited fathers sending their daughters abroad for all those fancy courses and I know one day they will be begging some family to let their daughters work like you do! There was a time in my life when I was excited about my career, seeing all those big CEO kind-of dreams, but now I am ready to do anything small that makes me feel significant. My job that I left for this marriage at least made me feel alive. There was the satisfaction of being financially independent.

But you won’t understand the pain because no one ever asked you to stop working.

I know it makes you proud that my husband makes all those international business trips every month, but doesn’t it make you sad that I don’t travel anymore and I live my life in a box?

There was a time you could not count my friends but now my life is just limited to 4-5 people. I need to take permission for literally everything. Meeting friends and taking trips is out of question, I am excited if I can even go out with my husband.

Please tell me what am I giving up everything for? For the kind of security that prisoners get in jails?

Papa, I am trying my best to be a strong girl but I have become so weak. This marriage is unfair in every possible way. I will cry for hours if you will touch me once right now. I am trying. I am giving and taking love, giving care and being taken care of; but I have realized that my freedom matters much more to me than we guessed it did. I know I am so blessed to have everything I do, but everything feels insignificant when there’s nothing to look forward to. I have an amazing life on the outside, but I am dying so fast inside.

Finding happiness in small things is really getting boring.

Not your daughter anymore, a bahu who lives every day to uphold izzat of a family she did not even know a year back.

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