THE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW




Will a daughter-in-law ever be a daughter? Will she forever be the daughter-in-law?

What had not she done in her little life span right from cooking, washing, cleaning, dusting,  cleaning and washing all when "she", the lady of the house, used to throw up, to cleaning her soiled clothes then and even now. She quietly worked like a wind mill right from the early morning to the wee hours of the night. The lady of the house, the mother-in-law, just had her ways and did what her daughter told her. She would buy things for herself and her daughter but never for the "outsider". The girl would just expectantly look on.

 Everybody would be taken care of, fed but none cared for her. She ate or not, slept or not did not matter to anyone. So much so that her first born was nearly given up by the doctors as he was born premature and weak.

God was kind enough to help her tend to her young one and in six months time the young one was nursed to health by her. 

But the torturous ways continued...and slowly and gradually the lady of the house started losing her memory. She was diagnosed with several ailments. Once she was even on the verge of losing her life. The daughter did not come, did not even help her a bit to help her get back to health. 

The daughter-in-law took it up as a humanitarian challenge. She monitored her each day, bathing her, feeding her, crying and laughing with her. But now that she was well she is back to her old torturing self, unnecessarily poking the daughter-in-law, uttering all nonsenses for her, not even acknowledging all that she did for her.

The daughter-in-law cries, has forgotten to laugh, is a stranger in her own house again. If she even utters a word she is marked as inhuman. 

She sits alone in a room, tears rolling down her face, wondering why has destiny been so rude to her! She cannot even complain. Where should she go? Should she leave? Why is she feeling bad? Is she going insane?

She gets up. No she isn't going to let all this affect her. She is going to be her true self always, human and humanitarian. She will fight all as before. She gets up, wipes the tears with the outer sides of her palm and looks out of her window. A new dawn awaited her with new challenges to be fought.

©®Madhumita