Dear mother,
You must be wondering why I am writing to after these many years. I know you do not expect to hear from me, but I hope you make time to read this letter completely. No, this letter is not to demand for or inform you about anything. I just want to tell you how I feel; I was never able to express my thoughts when I was with you.

Yet another girl born after three other daughters, I added to the misery of our family. Everyone, including my elder sisters, was depressed when I was born. But I want to thank you for bearing me and giving me birth. Even if for the selfish thought of wanting a boy, you brought me to the world and you are the reason I am alive.

As I write this letter, I am watching my daughter play. She takes me back to memories of my childhood. Waking up early morning to complete daily chores to the tune of father’s abuses before heading to school; being sent to school simply for the free mid-day meal which would help save money at home — but I thank you for allowing me education even if for the wrong reasons.

The birth of my younger brother was reason for much rejoicing in the family but it meant a bigger family and increased expenditure. You allowed me to work to earn money to sponsor my brother’s education. Even though for selfish and biased reasons, you allowed me to work and become self reliant. I thank you.

You married me off to strangers, a bridegroom’s party that was returning without a marriage. You felt your responsibilities ended after marrying me off, without checking the family or asking about my well being later. But I want to thank you. For I now have a family that treats me like a precious daughter, as your should have.  And yes, the two sarees you hastily sent my way are still tucked away safely in my wardrobe. I remember how and when you handed them to me. And I also remember how my mother-in-law gifted me a pile of sarees with much love and affection. Thank you for marrying me into a good family, even though it was sudden decision and because they did not want dowry.

Did you know that on the first Rakshabandhan after marriage, I was ready to welcome my younger brother home? I was sure he would come for the ceremony. I had done all preparations, cooked his favourite food and waited with eyes glued to the door. But he failed to come, probably not wanting to spend money on gifts for this sister. As tears of pain streamed down my cheeks, my younger brother-in-law wiped the tears away and offered me his wrist. That day, I got another brother.

The day I was blessed with my first child, the entire family was beaming in happiness as they embraced a daughter in their love. As I saw her face, I realised that being a mother is one of the most priced feelings in the world. Her little fingers clasping mine and her tiny rosebud mouth placed me in heaven.  I wish you could have come to meet her. But you didn’t.

Although you never loved me enough and I was unwanted, I have to thank you. For you are the one who taught me to be self reliant and appreciate my good fortune. And you are the reason why my daughter will always be wanted and loved.

Your forgotten, unwanted daughter