My name is Anjali. It has been one month since my marriage, but I don’t think any husband would do what mine did—he didn’t even look at his wife’s face for an entire month. From the first day of my marriage till today, I have been living in my sister-in-law’s room, sleeping on the floor in one corner like I don’t even exist.
This is not what any girl imagines about her new life.
My father is poor. We live in a village, not in the city. He was always worried about finding a good match for me. One day, a family friend told him that a very rich family was looking for a bride and they wanted the marriage to happen quickly. My father got scared that he might lose the chance. The uncle convinced him that the family was good and I would never face any shortage of anything.
The wedding was fixed without meeting, talking, or even seeing each other. I had not seen my future husband, and he had not seen me.
After the marriage, I entered a big luxurious house… but I had no identity there. Not as a wife, not as a daughter-in-law.
No one talked to me. They only gave me work—morning to evening. At night, I slept in the corner of my sister-in-law’s room. She treated me like a servant. They even threw garbage near the place where I slept.
I kept thinking, “If this is what marriage is, maybe staying alone was better.”
Slowly, I found some comfort with the housemaids. They treated me more like a human than my own in-laws. One day, one of them told me something shocking. She said my husband was supposed to marry another rich girl. They loved each other. But due to some big fight between the families, the wedding got cancelled—even the cards had already been printed.
In anger and frustration, my husband’s family fixed his marriage with me on the same date, just to save their pride.
That day I understood—
I was brought into this house not as a wife, but as a replacement… as a way to satisfy someone’s ego.
But I decided I would not stay silent anymore.
A few days later, I came to know that my husband was finally at home. He wanted food in his room. For the first time, I chose to take the food myself.
He didn’t look at me. He simply said,
“Keep the food on the table.”
I placed the tray and sat on the chair in front of him.
He was shocked.
“Who are you? How dare you sit here?”
His voice was full of anger and arrogance.
His mother rushed inside and shouted,
“What is she doing here?”
For the first time, I spoke clearly—
“This is my husband’s room… and I am his wife. Why can’t I sit here?”
Everyone went quiet.
They realized I wasn’t completely voiceless.
I continued,
“Do you understand what marriage means? You haven’t even looked at me once. All of you treat me like a servant. Did you buy me? You may be rich, but where is your heart? I never wanted a big house… I only wanted respect. Which I never got here.
So… I’m leaving.”
I turned to walk away, but my husband stopped me.
His voice didn’t have love, but it had softness for the first time.
“Anjali… I couldn’t forget my past, so I kept myself away from you. But you’re right. You’re not an object. You are my wife. I’m sorry… give me a little time.”
That was the first time I saw humanity on his face.
He said,
“From today, you will stay here, in this room… as my wife, not as a servant.”
That day changed my life.
I learned something important—
If you don’t speak for yourself, no one gives you a place.
Slowly, I started getting respect. My mother-in-law and sister-in-law changed their behaviour a little. And my husband… he started accepting me, slowly but honestly.
I may be poor,
but I am not weak.
This house is mine now, because I finally learned how to raise my voice.