Agle janam mohe bitiya no kijo

“Agle janam mohe bitiya no kijo…” echoed a beautiful voice on television early Sunday morning. The words reached deep, deep inside. And then it was not any other singer performing in a reality show, it was someone very close because the person was echoing my emotions, “God do not make me a daughter in the next birth.”

I would not call myself a feminist but probably my upbringing was such that I never considered myself inferior in any way to boys, Being the eldest child of the family , I always made it a point to voice my opinion even in the most trivial of matters and the best part is my decisions were implemented. I never realized that I was a girl child. It was never ever mentioned in my household even though we happen to be just two sisters.

This is the way I spent my childhood without any apprehensions about being a “daughter”. I adored my parents and dreamed of making it big, not for myself but for them. I love the beaming look that my papa gives whenever I accomplish something.

Then it came. Slowly and surely. The day I finished my college my parents were talking of my marriage. “Leave my home and go live with someone else… nah… no ways”. I had no idea that marriage is inevitable and I would be no exception.
Everyone expected me to adapt some other family as my own and feel happy about it. I know women have been doing it for ages and it is a well accepted norm in our society but so what the ****?

It was then for the first time in my life I said,” God why did u make me a daughter?”. I remember standing by the holy fire on D-day as the knot was being tied, the only thought that blocked my mind was, “why do I have to leave the people who are the reason for my existence?”

I resolved I would not budge however hard they tried. And then I told my mother I didn’t want to go. I was resolute. She did not listen too busy for my vidai. I told my brother I was not going but he stayed quiet. Seeing no other way I wailed out loud,”mujhe nahin jana hai”. But no one listened. I kept howling, begging them to leave me alone. They all wept but the last minute preparations did not cease. The memories are all hazy perhaps because my eyes were filled with tears or because I have not recalled that day again. What I remember clearly is that I was sent of in a car packed with strangers. My father stood there beaming yet again, face puffed red, and my sister wearing an expression I have never seen before and my mother … I just couldn’t see my mother. It had become blurred yet again. My heart reached out for them but I couldn’t. It was the end. It was the end of the best part of me. I know something in me died that day.

I had conditioned myself to forget about that part until I heard this song on Sunday. I begged to God yet again, "agle janam mohe bitia na kijo"!!!