I married the man I loved, knowing that our journey would not be easy. He was my relative, and his family refused to accept our marriage. But we believed that love was enough, that together we could face any challenge. We were wrong—love alone could not shield us from the cruelty that followed.
From the moment I stepped into my in-laws’ house, I was treated like an outsider, an intruder in my own home. They taunted me, humiliated me, and slowly turned their words into violence. But I endured it all because my husband stood by me. Their anger wasn’t just directed at me—they even raised their hands against my son, an innocent child, simply because they couldn’t accept us as a family.
When the torture became unbearable, we decided to fight back. We reached out for legal help, knowing that justice in India is a long and painful road. My husband was denied his share of his father’s property, and we were left to fend for ourselves. But we did not give up. Together, we filed complaints, gathered evidence, and pursued every legal avenue available to us. The process was exhausting—delays, pressure from society, and threats from his own family made it seem impossible.
But we are still fighting. They may have tried to break us, but they could not break our love, our determination, or our will to seek justice. I share my story not for sympathy, but for every woman who has been told to stay silent. To every wife, every mother suffering in silence—your voice matters. The road is long, but we must walk it, step by step, until justice is not just a distant dream, but a reality.
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