“Dua karo iss dafa beta ho”
–Is being a ‘beti’ really the curse it’s made out to be?
Being the fourth daughter my parents were blessed with, I always used to ask them if they had ever wished I had been born a boy. I spent a lot of time wondering if, after having three girls, they were disappointed to see yet another daughter instead of a son. To my relief, my parents always responded to this question with a resounding ‘no’. Rather, they would get surprised and question me instead on the kind of nonsense that fills up my brain with questions such as these.
Unwittingly, my mind was adapting to the fallacious belief that not having a brother was a cause for concern. Being a little girl and constantly hearing such remarks in an androcentric society, it was normal for me to come to believe that only boys could bring real joy to a family.
Consequently, I started to believe, being a boy to be greater than being a girl. As I could not do anything about the fact that I had been born a girl, I then started calling myself the ‘beta’ (son) my parents never had. I thought I was consoling my parents by telling them things such as,
“Main hun na aap ka beta.”
Society taught me to accept these patriarchal ideas so willingly, I did not even realise that by calling myself a son, I was only setting the bar lower for my own gender. Women all around us are achieving phenomenal things, and yet our society remains stuck on celebrating the arrival of a boy, and mourning the arrival of a girl. I have heard many parents calling their girls ‘mera beta’ (my son), but never have I heard a boy being called ‘meri beti’ (my daughter).
Why do we continue to perceive girls as a burden; to be wed off as early as possible because she is “kisi aur ki amaanat” (belonging to someone else)? Why is it that as soon as a girl is born, parents start calculating the hit their finances will take, because now they will have to pay for her marriage?
When we think about it, the only real difference between having a son and a daughter is our unfortunate mindset.
Thus, I have stopped calling myself a beta now. The reason isn’t the precedence of one gender over another, but simply because I am not a beta. In fact, and very proudly so, I am a beti. I am a beti, and I wear flowers in my hair, jhumkay in my ears and bangles on my wrists as I go out and fight to reclaim the spot taken from me and from many other betian (daughters) by an unfair system. I am a beti who is striving to fight against the stigma of gender bias, and who shall from now on continue to derive only strength from calling herself a beti.
“WHEN MEN ARE OPPRESSED, IT’S TRAGEDY, AND WHEN WOMEN ARE OPPRESSED, IT’S A TRADITION.” So, let’s bring down this age-old tradition.