My husband and I live and work in Mumbai. Initially, we planned to give birth at a convenient hospital in the city. But then my husband said:

“This is our only grandson, you should go to your hometown and give birth so my parents can be proud of their relatives.”

So, I returned to my husband’s hometown in Uttar Pradesh a week before the due date. My husband and I planned to stay at my husband’s house for a month, and when our son was one month old, we would move to my wife’s house.

Staying at my husband’s house – The bitterness of “grandson, mother’s sin”

My husband’s family was well-off, with my father (father-in-law) earning a good pension and being financially well-off. Nevertheless, my husband gave me some money during the delivery to help with my living expenses. He had bought all the necessary supplies for the baby, including clothes, diapers, etc.

I thought I would be well-cared for and comfortably fed, but that wasn’t the case. My mother-in-law was extremely meticulous. She always bought cheap meat and fish from the market, and sometimes they even smelled bad. I made a face, and she defended herself by saying:

“There’s no smell. Just add spices, and it will go away.”

I only picked vegetables from the garden, and never bought anything else. Every day, I ate okra, gourd, and spinach, so much so that I got bored of them.

Even after having a child, things didn’t improve. My paya (pig’s foot) porridge was always undercooked because she skimped on gas and turned off the stove early. Looking at that tasteless dish, I tried to swallow it with tears in my eyes.

Not only that, but she complained all day:

“My son works hard, he provides for the entire family. My daughter-in-law’s arrival only adds to the expenses.”

After complaining about her son, she mentioned the high market prices and said that the money my husband sent was worthless. I calculated that it was enough for me and my child, but he divided it with his sister-in-law who lives nearby to buy more meat and fish.

The day I left my husband’s house

Before I returned to my mother’s house, my mother-in-law entered the room, her voice both reprimanding and demanding:

“All the money my son gave me is gone. I still have to borrow money from my house to take care of you and your child, so you have to pay that back. Besides, the electricity and water bills have increased this month because you’re living here. You have to pay me another 3,000 rupees to cover that.” I was stunned. I had just given birth, so I didn’t have much money left. Finally, I had to message a nearby acquaintance and ask for a quick loan so I could pay him back.

With my anger, I hugged my baby and left my husband’s house.

Returning to my mother’s house – a bitter difference

Returning to my mother’s house, I felt the difference. My mother (biological mother) loved her daughter very much and spared no expense. She bought me chicken, fish, beef, and fresh fruit so I could nourish her, saying:

“You have to eat enough nutrients for your baby to drink milk.”

At my mother’s house, my baby and I gained weight rapidly. I gave her money, but she brushed it off:

“My daughter has only been at my mother’s house for a few months, can’t you take care of her and her grandson?”

My throat choked and I cried.

A bitter lesson

After living at my husband’s house for a month, I finally understood the saying: “Grandchildren are gold, but I don’t care about them.” But in reality, all children are blood relatives; people just have different hearts.

My story is similar to that of many women. Everyone says: Not everyone is lucky enough to have a considerate mother-in-law who treats her daughter-in-law like her own daughter. If you’re unlucky enough to have someone who only knows how to calculate and considers her daughter-in-law a burden, the pain after childbirth will be even greater.

From then on, I understood:

At my husband’s house, I have to maintain distance, treat him with respect—but never have the illusion that I’ll be loved like a daughter.

Part 2 – 500,000 Rupees and the Shocking Secret

At 5 a.m. that morning, as I was breastfeeding my baby in a dimly lit room in a village in Uttar Pradesh, my mother-in-law’s face turned pale and she hurriedly woke me. She thrust a thick envelope into my hand.

“Here’s 500,000 Rupees. Take your child and hide outside the city. Come back in ten days. Don’t ask any questions.”

Her eyes were both nervous and worried. I was stunned, my heart pounding. A miserly woman who used to manage her finances with her daughter-in-law was now giving me such a large sum of money? This was not normal at all.

With no time to ask anything else, I was helpless, carrying my baby in my arms, and, as she had said, taking a taxi back to my mother’s house.

The Afternoon Call

The next afternoon, while I was putting my baby to sleep, the phone rang. A hoarse, unfamiliar male voice came from the other end:

“Are you Mrs. Shanta Devi’s daughter-in-law? Let me tell you, the entire family is caught up in a terrible incident. If you’re sane, don’t come back now.”

I was stunned, my heart sank.

The secret was revealed

That night, I called my husband. He remained silent for a long moment, then sighed:

“I didn’t mean to tell you… but I can’t hide it any longer. That money was for my mother so she could take you and the baby. Because…”

His voice choked:

“…Father borrowed money from the village moneylenders to invest in land. But the project failed. When the time came for repayment, they threatened to humiliate the entire family, even putting them up for mortgage. My mother was most afraid they would harm her eldest grandson, so she asked me to leave that very night.”

I was stunned. So, behind the daily miserliness, my mother-in-law was struggling to keep the family from falling apart.

Storm in the Village

The rumor spread rapidly through the village. People began whispering:

“Mr. Sharma’s family is in debt of over two crore rupees!”

“The moneylenders have come to demolish the house, who knows what will happen.”

The next day, goons came into the courtyard, threw stones at the door, and hurled abuses. My mother-in-law fell on her knees and begged, while my father nearly went mad.

My husband had to hurry back to the village from Mumbai, but the money he had collected wasn’t enough.

Secret Letter

That night, I suddenly remembered my mother-in-law’s strange look when she had placed the money in my hand. I reached into the old envelope, and besides the pile of money, I also found a small piece of paper with a quivering line written on it:

“Daughter-in-law, if anything happens to your parents, please keep your grandchildren safe. The Lal Kitab is in a wooden box on the land behind the village temple. It’s the only thing that can save this entire family…”

I shuddered. It turned out there was another secret.

Climax

The next morning, when the entire village gathered because the black money lenders were causing trouble, I decided to reveal the Lal Kitab to the villagers and the Panchayat head.

When the goons threatened to burn down the house, I led my child outside, holding the book high:

“This is my father’s land—land to worship our ancestors. No one is allowed to steal it! If you want, go to the Panchayat and confront them.”

The entire courtyard was silent. The faces of the black moneylenders were glowing, because if they even touched the land of the temple, the entire village would rise against them.

My mother-in-law burst into tears. My father collapsed and said,

“Daughter-in-law, if it weren’t for you, this family would have lost everything…”

Open End

But I knew this storm had just begun. The debt was still outstanding. Was the secret of the land behind the temple really a way out, or would it open another dark chapter in the family?

Clasping my child in my arms, I whispered, “In this war, I will no longer be the silent daughter-in-law.”