Often, I find myself standing at the crossroads of my beliefs and the norms set by the society. This is, almost, an everyday occurrence. People have been calling me a rebel because I try to put my opinion on the table, even when nobody is interested. Trust me, this is not a fun activity for me. In fact, I dread these scenarios but can’t help opening my big mouth. After a profound analysis, I have declared that I suffer from, what they call, a big mouth syndrome. This syndrome has caused me to hurt my friends and family at multiple occasions, but I continue to walk hand in hand with this companion of mine. If you are anything like me, I am sure that you would relate, word to word, with this post.
As far back as I can remember, I stood tall against those traditions which make no sense to me. My parents accepted me and my tantrums, my younger sister never bothered about these things, and my friends admired me for being honest about my beliefs. I had a few heated discussions with one of my cousins, but we did not let those arguments separate us. In my head, however, I have made a mental note to stay away from those particular topics that built up the drama. A few family acquaintances looked bothered when I challenged the established traditions, and some tried to debate regarding the same, but these incidents never bothered me. As long as my friends and family were on my side, I couldn’t care less about anybody else. In fact, these are the people who kept me away from any provoking situation. Thus, my world remained confined to my educational institutions, home, and frequent visit to my maternal grandparents’ home. Frankly speaking, I enjoyed being surrounded by these like-minded people (or the people whose mind I could change as per my beliefs).
After my marriage, however, I have been exposed to all the deeply rooted beliefs and traditions, which I have been running away from. Earlier, my family had been acting as a shield to secure me, but now, for the first time, I would need to raise my voice clearly, calmly, and strongly. I have no problem with it; in fact, I like tackling the orthodox and unnecessary social belief head on. The only problem is that I have married an angel, and I do not want to hurt this man. It may sound romantic and, probably, an exaggeration, but it’s true. Irrespective of our nonsensical arguments, fuelled by me, I have not failed to notice the little and the big things that he does for me. He welcomed my family in his life in a way that is impossible for me. He has been a like a big brother to my sister. Anytime I insist, he visits my family. He calls them whenever he gets a chance. I have never seen even a speck of disappointment for me in his eyes, and I must tell you, here, that I am far from perfect. Taking care of the household, which most people assume to be a woman’s job, has never bothered him. This is just a few points from a long list of his angelic qualities. I believe that we have established that he is one of the rarest breeds of men, who keep their wives as their princesses.
So, where is the problem? The problem is that I do not like changing my beliefs even for this amazing guy. His family has been following the veil system since ages. This means that daughter-in-laws must cover their faces with a long veil and they must wear a few mandatory jewels. The separation of men and women in his family is almost bizarre. It seemed cute to me for a while, but now, I am having a hard time digesting this shyness. Although my husband has been pushing his family to get rid of these old unnecessary traditions, they seem reluctant to follow his advice. I must praise his persistence, here. He has managed to make a few changes by his constant nagging. Nevertheless, I do not visit his parents as much as they would like me to. My husband says that he is fine with it, but I have noticed a little despair in his eyes. Once, for his sake, I offered to visit his family, and you would not imagine the extent of his happiness. He thanked me for days for exhibiting an interest. I am not sure, though, how much can I bend.
Now, I stand at the crossroads where I must either follow the path of accepting a few “traditions” for the sake of my angel or take the road of continuing to take my stand.
P.S. This post is in response to the daily post prompt: Crossroads