Nalini's silent compliance didn't equate to acceptance. She spent her days brooding, trying to understand how her strong, independent daughter had created such a tyrannical household.
One afternoon, while Rohan was at work and Priya was working from home, Nalini brought two cups of tea into the study.
"Priya, beta, we need to talk," Nalini said, sitting opposite her daughter.
Priya looked up, her expression guarded. "If this is about Rohan, Ma—"
"It is," Nalini interrupted, her voice firm. "I am trying to understand. I follow your rules. I let him do everything. But why, Priya? Why do you humiliate him like this? He is a good man. He clearly loves you."
Priya sighed, closing her laptop. She looked tired, the hard edge softening for a moment. "He is a good man, Ma. And I love him. But he is also naturally submissive. He always had a... a penchant for feminine things, even before we married."
Nalini raised her eyebrows. "You mean..."
"Yes. The crossdressing, the desire to serve. It was always there, hidden away. He was deeply ashamed of it." Priya leaned forward, her eyes intense. "But it wasn't just him. It was me, Ma."
Priya stood up, pacing the small room. "You saw how Father was. You lived it. I swore I would never let a man dictate my life. I wanted absolute control. When I realized Rohan's true nature, we made a deal."
"A deal?"
"Yes. I told him he could embrace his submissive, feminized side completely. I would accept him. But in return, I would have total control. He would have no say. He would become the perfect homemaker, and I would be the unquestioned head of the house."
Nalini shook her head, trying to process this. "But Priya, this isn't a partnership. It's a dictatorship. You are treating him like a servant."
"I am treating him how he needs to be treated," Priya argued. "And how I need to treat him. If I give him an inch, if I let him feel like an equal, I fear he will revert to being a 'man'. He will start demanding things. He will become like Father. I can't have that, Ma. I won't survive it."
Nalini saw the fear in her daughter's eyes—a deep, unresolved trauma from her childhood. Priya was ruling her marriage with an iron fist out of terror of being ruled herself.
"Oh, Priya," Nalini whispered, reaching out to hold her daughter's hand. "Your father was wrong. The way he treated me was wrong. But the answer isn't to become the oppressor. True strength isn't about making someone else weak."
Priya pulled her hand away gently. "This works for us, Ma. He is happy serving me, and I am happy being in control."
"Is he happy?" Nalini challenged. "Or is he just terrified of breaking your rules?"
Priya didn't answer immediately. She looked away, out the window. "He knows what happens if he disobeys. We have rules for a reason."
The conversation ended there, but it planted a seed in Nalini's mind. She finally understood the core of the issue. It wasn't just about chores or clothing; it was about fear and power. And while she couldn't change it overnight, she knew she had to try and guide her daughter toward a healthier balance, even if that balance still involved a saree-wearing son-in-law.
Discussion (0)