In the second year of college, Aahil came into my life, giving me a sense of the addictive power of love. It's then that I lied to my dear, affectionate maa for the first time.

You don't get to decide my life for me, you don't get to control it, and then hand the control over to another man.

Nirmala disconnected, and turned to speak to Amma. But she was long gone. Once more, the poor kitchen utensils were bearing the brunt of Amma’s temper.

At that moment I realised that my father is as fallible as any other human being and a victim of internalised patriarchy, and even he has a few things that he needs to work on and evolve.

How many times do we need to remind people that daughters are not liabilities? That the girl child isn’t some object for which the 'burden' shifts on to another person after she acquires the married tag?