'Laali' or 'Siya'

At 0730 pm, where ‘Agle Janam Mohe Bitiya Hi Kijo (Let me be reborn as a daughter!)’ gives a sense of pride in being born as a girl, three hours after ‘Na Aana Is Des Meri Lado (Don’t come to this place my dear daughter!)’ defies that in toto. ‘Balika Vadhu (Child Bride!)’ narrates the dilemma of a child marriage in between those two soaps leaving the audiences baffled. The policies, media focus on woman emancipation and our will to empower woman contradicts with the declining female sex ratio in many Indian states. With Kerela on the top, and few southern and south-eastern states have an encouraging ratio, rest of the states give a bleak picture of the result for their efforts. Last year, I was travelling to attend one of my relative’s funeral. He had died in a freak road accident and is survived by his wife and two daughters. In the due time, I got a call from his elder brother, “Can you please make Shalu (name changed) understand that as per shashtra, she can’t lit her father’s pyre? She is persisting to do so.” My head was minced. I told him, “If she wants to lit it, then let her do. Nyways, she is the eldest daughter and since she has no brother, I don’t see any problem with her performing the last rites.” “We have a son in the family, my own, Karan (name changed). He should perform the last rites,” he harped. “It would be good if you can talk to her once,” he requested further. Since he was the eldest, I couldn’t resist him and picked up the phone to call her. “Shalu, what happened? Who would be performing the last rites?” I asked as she was crying incessantly at the funeral spot. She told me what I already knew. I was helpless. She was right in her own way and I also supported it from inside, but never wanted to have a family feud over a dead body. “I was the one who was with him in the hospital for 2 months. I even missed the GATE exam for my father to recover. Now when he is no more and I want to use my privilege of seeing him off finally, uncle is arguing for Karan to lit the pyre,” she spoke her heart out. “What can I say dear? I got a call from your uncle who told me to speak to you on this. See, now uncle is like your father and he has to take his place in fulfilling the responsibilities of your marriage, your younger sister’s education and marriage. Bury the hatchet and move forward.” Had she been there near me, she would have easily noticed my tongue not in sync with my face. “But brother…I am his genetic child and I have the all the rights over his dead body,” she pleaded. I was crying from inside, but enacted so as she never comes to know about it. The pyre was lit by Karan, and Shalu was a mere spectator of the great grand old fire game. Out of curiosity, I discussed it with the relatives in their Elvis years. They told that as per Hindu shastras, only blood relatives can perform the last rites including daughters—I repented making a call to Shalu for persuasion. I went to her uncle to communicate what I had just learnt, and saw him watching ‘Mera Naam Karegi Roshan (She will make me proud!)’