Dear my (could be) In-laws,
I won’t marry your son and I am not sorry.
I won’t marry him because I know there would be this new rule for me to get up early. I don’t sleep for long hours and I am responsible enough to take care of the people around me but then there will be this sword hovering over me every morning that won’t let me have a sound sleep. Plus, I won’t have my mother around who'd let me sleep for longer hours on some (just SOME) days. But dear mom-in-law, won’t you judge me for that?
I won’t marry your son because I will be expected to cook everyday.
You know what, I love to cook. Yes, I love to experiment with new cuisines and making the family members happy comforts my soul. But will you spare me on the days when my experiments go wrong? Like my dad, who never made faces even if the salt was a bit too much on some days. Dear husband, will you mind cooking on the days of my periodical backache?
I won’t marry because I am scared. On the days when I feel low, dear mom-in-law, will you allow me to sleep with my head in your lap? I have this habit of being all touchy-feely with my mum because only that makes me feel better.
Would you even care to ask, “What’s wrong?”
Oh, that makes me scared. So unwanted. I don’t expect to be pampered but at least a little care and love. Damn, I would be shifting to a family with a completely new set of people. Can you even imagine what I feel?
I won’t marry your son because I have this habit of speaking the truth. No, not the sugar-coated truth.
This, in no way, means that I am rude but you must be aware that the truth is not always sweet and despite my mum telling me all the time to learn to be quiet, I just couldn’t help it. Would you still bear with me dear mom-in-law? Or will you be discussing ‘me’ with the entire clan?
Yes, that makes me anxious.
No, I won’t marry because you grown ups still don’t know that it is completely okay to carry your own utensils. I can do it for you occasionally but don’t you think it is MY duty to pick up your dirty plates! Even the thought of it makes me angry. You must have been taught by your parents — “do your own work”. And yes, there is something called a ‘sink’ in case you are used to throwing everything around.
I won’t get married to your kid because I can’t share food. It scares the hell out of me when I see couples having meals on the same plate. I will love you but food will always be my priority. But yes, I can love you more if you offer me a piece of brownie with vanilla ice cream just after my afternoon nap.
I won’t marry because I can’t think of giving up on my dreams. How little or how big is not the question. My dream is the reason I breathe.
Since I know priorities change after marriage, how can I wilfully suffocate my dreams to death? Even if I do it for you, darling, believe me, you will be living with a whole new person who is not me. It is a nightmare for me to die with my dreams unfulfilled.
I won’t get married. Even if I accept you all, will you ever accept me as one of your own? Or will there always be a line, most probably created by the ‘daughters’ of the house? After all I would be the ‘daughter-in-law’.
I won’t marry your son because I know when I love, I love with all my heart and I’m sure my heart will be taken for granted.
Now that I have expressed it all, I hope you don’t judge me. Or you do?
Having said that, there is something that gives me a sinking feeling. I am sure, everything that looks like torture from a distance may be a crazy journey.
Listen. I love being crazy.
Just help me do it all for you out of love and not at a gunpoint. Just know that I am a free bird. Yes, I love to fly but I won’t do it on somebody’s instructions.
Yours (could-be) truly,