In May 2020, I got married. It was a court marriage due to COVID restrictions, but I’m glad it happened that way — simple, without suffocating rituals.

But still, I wasn’t spared from the expectations society imposes on married women. The first expectation was declared right after I stepped out of the court. When I moved towards my car and prepared to leave, my husband’s uncle turned to my father and asked, “Shall we take our amanat with us now?”

Amanat. A word that means “a possession, that is kept safely.” At that moment, the smile on my face dropped. How had a single signature turned me from an independent woman into an amanat?

I had visited my husband’s house many times but that day, something inside me resisted. Still, I got into my husband’s car and felt a strange, unsettling feeling in my stomach.

As we passed the road that led to my home, my husband’s aunt said, “Now, no more going on that road.” At that moment, the strange feeling in my stomach intensified and my head started spinning.

When we reached my husband’s house, I kicked a glass of rice, did a pooja, and had lunch. But throughout the time, the strange feeling in my stomach existed.

After sometime, my husband dropped me home. After stepping into my house, the strange feeling went away instantly.

But my battle had only just begun.

Five days later, my husband texted me: “Now keep some of your belongings at my place. And, start staying here.”

My head again started spinning and I replied, “Just because you’re a guy why do I have to come and stay at your place? Why is everything changing just for me?”

My parents, however, saw no problem with his request. “He is right,” they said. “You have to go. Every woman leaves her house after marriage.”

At first, everyone thought that I was just taking my time. But when I continued to resist, they felt that performing a Hindu wedding ceremony would compel me to live at my husband’s place. So they started pressuring me.

“What is wrong with getting married through Hindu tradition? Since years, people have been following it. Don’t think of yourself as some Mahatma who will change the traditions. We have done the biggest mistake of our life by giving you education. Are you happy seeing both of us cry because of you? Why are you so stubborn?”, these and many more such sentences were fired at me.

These words stung. Not even a single person stood by my side. Even my closest friends, instead of supporting me, would ask in a curious tone, “Are you staying at your house or his?”

I hated that question.

But in all this darkness, I found strength in a song — Mera Bhai by Divine, an Indian rapper. The song talks about how the people closest to us — friends, family, and even brothers — can sometimes abandon us.

So, I would play that song on repeat and remind myself: Only my shadow is with me, I don’t need support from anyone.

After days of crying, yelling, and questioning my sanity, I gathered my strength and finally found the courage to stand up for myself.

One day, I found myself in a room with my parents, my husband, and his parents. The purpose? To convince me to marry through Hindu rituals.

I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and firmly said, “I will not marry through Hindu rituals. The traditions of Bidaai and Kanyadaan don’t make sense to me. And, following a ritual where I can’t find depth is against my values.”

The argument went on for hours and I answered each question calmly and confidently. In the end, everyone gave up.

On the way back, I was sitting in the back seat and Mom and Dad were in the front. My father, his voice heavy with disappointment, said, “You talk too much, Khushboo.”

I didn’t reply and happily kept looking out of the window. I was content that I had spoken for myself.

After that day, the topic of Hindu marriage never came up. But the battle isn’t over, I am still fighting to keep my surname. My father and husband often say, “It is very difficult when it comes to documentation and other government processes.”

I reply, “Indian law allows a woman to keep her surname after marriage. It is not mandatory to change it.”

I am not sure if I will be able to keep it or not, but I am 100% sure that I am not going to stop fighting.

In the end, I just want to say that Change takes time, and questioning traditions isn’t easy. But every small step matters. If more women start questioning practices that don’t align with their beliefs, we might create a world where marriage is about love and partnership — not ownership and sacrifice.

My fight isn’t just mine; it’s for every woman who has ever felt like an ‘amanat’ rather than an individual. And if my story gives even one woman the courage to stand up for herself, then every argument, every struggle, and every tear that I shed was worth it.