Friendship with my father-in-law
We wanted to change things but needed a safe space for ourselves, too. My elderly in-laws, Ammi and Papa—the two people we had been most afraid of offending with our inter-faith marriage—became our allies.
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Editor's note: The gynaecologist who supervised my pregnancies, Dr Pushpa Sen, was senior to me by a few decades, but she and I had a few things in common. We were both big city women with careers who had married into traditional families in east Uttar Pradesh. Her father-in-law had been a well-known doctor in Varanasi and my in-laws were based in a sprawling village home, 100 kilometres on from the same city. We spoke to each other candidly about how we changed the way we dress, speak and behave when we visit our sasural—the homes of our in-laws. We shared notes on the pressure to conform to social expectations. “I always covered my head with my saree pallu in the presence of my father-in-law. I would wear glass bangles and sindoor prominently in the parting of my hair,” she said. “Later when I practised as a doctor in the same clinic as him, I had to figure out how to examine my patients while I was dressed stiffly as an obedient daughter-in-law.” I’d laugh and tell her about my experiences. Thankfully …
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