Why Do Daughters Feel Like Guests in Their Parents’ Homes?@Vinod73

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This question, often not even acknowledged in Indian households, reared its head again when Lalu Prasad Yadav’s daughter Rohini Acharya left the family home after a spat with her brother Tejashwi Yadav. What does the law say?

It’s traditional, and the reason behind it is the same patriarchal thought of women being property. But this is changing. Some people don’t move to the guy’s house; they move to their own house. Both sets of parents are equally welcome to visit us and stay with us. But it is our house and our rules, so they also know that how we live together is only for us to decide. They can advise but not force us. The same way we do when we go to their house.

For a girl child who lives 25–30 years in her father’s house, after she gets married, she is now a partner to someone, daughter-in-law to someone. Therefore, she receives another family which is in her hands, so it becomes a responsibility to her to look after them in all aspects; she has to stand by them in all circumstances.

After marriage, she now follows her partner, so her in-laws’ house becomes the primary residence (her own house), whereas her father’s house becomes a guest house (for a few days).

Dig in to read my feelings as a daughter.

I want a house of my own.
Not my husband’s flat, not my father’s, mine.
A tiny home that belongs to me, where I can go when I’m devastated.
Where no one can threaten me, where I feel safe.
Where I don’t have to do things to stay there.

Don’t mistake me, please. I’m really grateful to god for giving me a father who loves me.
But even he, unknowingly, tells me sometimes to leave.
And when he doesn’t, society does.
Society asks him to get me married,
to find me a house, as if I’m a guest who must soon leave.

I have questions for my parents.
They tell me I can live with them as long as I want,
But their eyes ask me to go.
I’ve seen the divorced daughters living back at their parents’,
their faces down with shame,
as if the house that once called them beti
Suddenly, they forgot their name.

But once in a while, when I visit my parents, I ring the doorbell and wait for my beaming mother to answer. I glance at my room and immediately feel that something is amiss. I am now embarrassed that my mother tries to distract her disappointed daughter with bribes like her favourite dessert.

The daughter cheers up because she knows she has limited time and an unlimited number of things to talk about.

The family bombards the daughter with questions about her new family. And the daughter gladly indulges in some juicy gossip. The party continues until it’s time to say goodbye. The daughter picks up her bag, hugs her mother, and promises to visit her soon.

Most lawyers agree that the law isn’t enough to change deeply embedded beliefs. As one lawyer puts it, “Women [alone] can’t forcibly claim right of residence. The change has to be social, the recognition of sons and daughters as equals.”

As the door closes behind me, I yearn to go back. But I can’t because it’s time to go home. So no, I don’t want your money, your house, or your car. I like mine—a place where no one asks me for rent, not even in the form of emotional labour.

Please share your thoughts. Grateful for your support.