This letter is for the girl who is fasting on Karva Chauth this year. It is also for the girl who is not fasting. It is for the little girl playing with bangles and wondering when she will get to dress up like a bride. It is for the little girl who grew up and found her happily ever after. It is for the little girl who went through a few boyfriends before deciding what kind of a woman she wanted to be. It is for the young lady walking through the flea market, indulging in retail therapy. It is for the older lady getting a pedicure, just because…
More than anyone else, this letter is for the victim of domestic abuse. The woman who believed in herself and walked out of an unhappy marriage. The woman who was not afraid of saying that incompatibility was enough of a reason to want out. The woman who stayed on and turned her fate around. The woman who chose work AND marriage. The woman who does not need to fast to show her love or faith. The blushing one whose husband fasts with her – and she lets him. The rebel who used tattoos and realised that you can define yourself with or without them. The traditional one who does not mind a drink or two with her friends once in a while. The corporate going lady who loves her sarees. The straight out of collage crusader who rescues abandoned puppies while clad in leather boots that are meant for walking. The single mother who backpacks around rural villages with her daughter. The army wife who remembers every word from every letter, but cannot remember the last time they were together on Karva Chauth. The soccer mom who takes her daughter to soccer practice everyday because a teacher in school once said, “girls don’t play football.”
And finally, this letter is for the girl, the woman, the mother, the sister, and the wife who believes in herself and her choices.
To all of you: celebrate who you are. Don’t use feminism or Karva Chauth as an excuse. Fast if you must, don’t if you can’t go hungry. It is all about your choices. And more than anything else, it is all about you.
