My story starts somewhere in 2003 when I was in class 10. At an age when girls are open to proposals, I was a little confused when it came my way by a classmate. A convent lass, I was mature and felt it was an infatuation, hence, refused to cling on to it. However, I was proved wrong as the guy waited for my acceptance for five years and this melted me as well.

Despite knowing the shortcomings with respect to caste differences and the problems it would create back home, I fell head over heels in love with him. Seven years into our relationship, he 29 and I 27, we decided to talk to our parents about marriage.

Professionally sound, my guy was sure we would sail through our families. While his parents were happy with the alliance and accepted the pair with open arms, I was shivering with fear of talking about it at home.

My family is a conservative one with my father being the dictator. A staunch follower of caste, creed and culture, the word ‘love’ itself was immoral and unethical for him, leave alone marriage. I got a blatant ‘NO’ as an answer, followed by a year of silence and rejection.

Now 28, a designated age bar for South Indian girls to be married off, my determined self had them accept him except for my father. He being from a lower caste than ours was too much for my father to accept though it didn’t hinder the rest of the family from loving and respecting my would-be.

We got married in a humble gathering in the absence of my dad and this hurts me till date. My marriage was kept a secret with my dad telling our neighbourhood that I was in another city working in a firm. This had kept me away from my maternal house for years. The little I visited despite my dad’s hatred, I tried my best to convince him and make him believe that I still loved him. But in vain. He instead would spit in front of me each time I confronted him.

My dad had worked really hard to give us a healthy upbringing. However, I was often criticized by him and my grandmother on various points, which had me upset throughout my childhood. While working, I made small purchases in gold from my savings as a help to my father during marriage. However, he refused to give away anything from it during the nuptial bonding and even after it. On the contrary, he threatened of filing a complaint of theft against me if I tried getting them.

I was shocked by his behavior and sheer insensitiveness. My husband has been my pillar of strength throughout this journey of conflict and fight for self dignity. He not only bore the expenses of marriage but also took care of my initial miscarriage and baby shower later. And, this without demanding a penny from my family.

He is a gem and I feel blessed to have him as a partner. What hurts me is my father’s unnatural and cruel behavior towards me. He hates ‘Love’ but has accepted the love marriage of two of my cousins. Was it because they were males and I a girl or because my sisters-in- law moved into my caste while I moved out of it into a lower one? Whatever be the reason, it surely destroyed a father-daughter relationship.

Today, though I’m happy in my new family, the void between us (father and me) disturbs me at times. I never eloped nor did I leave the house swearing. Instead, I waited for a year to win him over and have him as a part of one of the biggest events in my life. Though my mother stood by me through thick and thin, my father’s absence was always felt.

We need our parents at all times, irrespective of the event being jolly or sad. I’ve not given up on hope and shall keep trying to win over his love one day. I still believe this time when I conceive, he shall take me in with affection and respect.

I love you dad because you made me the person I am today but I hate you for not understanding me and abandoning me when I needed you the most. I’m no different from my cousins and my act is as justified as is theirs. Hope you understand this someday, dad.

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