Kahani ghar ghar ki

(Its all very cliched, i know. But it hits you only when it hits you)

Her fight beings before she does. The walls of her mothers womb are not strong enough to keep the big bad world out. They want to get in, they want to get her. She doesn't know why, she doesn't know how, but she fights. For her right to life.


She knows that the earth goes around the sun. She knows all about oceans and seas and snow and rain. She knows her tables up to 10. So what if she has never been to school? Her brother has, and if second hand knowledge is all the world allows her, so be it. She will take that and fight. For her right to a better life.

She had come first in her class. She couldn't quite make up her mind whether that was the high point of her life or it's biggest joke. Whatever happened, no one could take that away from her, but how did it matter? Did it make her a better wife, daughter-in-law or mother? For that was all she was and if life had its way, all she would ever be. Unless she fought. For her right to be all that she could.

Such a handsome guy! And in such a great job too. And from such a respectable family. I wish all girls were as lucky! How many times had she heard that? Square peg, square hole. What could be more sensible? How does it matter what peg you fit, as long as it is square? If only people were like pegs, she thought. Wouldn't life be infinitely simple? She would never have to fight. For her right to the guy that fit her soul.

She was good. She knew that. It wasn't enough. She knew that too. She had to prove herself, everyday, to people who were waiting for her to fall or even stumble, so they could write her off. She had to be on her guard all the time and yet be friendly because she needed them. They were the opponents as well as the judges in her fight. For her right to her heights.

She wanted to dance. Run barefoot in the grass. Spends days in the woods with only trees for company. Travel. Stop in the middle of nowhere because the sunset looked nice. Hear the old man's tales all day long. She wanted to be a butterfly, flitting from flower to flower. The word fight did not really belong in her world, but she had to let it in. For her right to fly.

A country living in many centuries. It doesn't really matter which century you are born in. All that changes is the fight you have to fight. Is live and let live really that difficult to practice? Why do we have to fight the past to get to the future? Why does every saas forget ki woh bhi kabhi bahu thi?