That day, my in-laws came from Kanpur to Delhi to visit my husband and me. As soon as we entered the house, my husband, Ravi, took out exactly 500 rupees and handed it to me, saying:

“Go to the market and buy groceries and cook six dishes for your parents so they can eat properly.”

I stood at the door, stunned, feeling bitter inside. “You want to cook six dishes for 500 rupees? Isn’t that treating me like a maid?” But I still tried to remain patient and was about to turn and leave.

Suddenly, laughter and chatter erupted from the living room. I clearly heard my in-laws whispering and Ravi proudly boasting:

“The new apartment in Gurgaon is in my name. From now on, you can rest assured, your son has a stable place to live, and you don’t have to worry about anything.”

I was stunned. It turned out that all this time, he had been hiding the fact that he had bought the apartment, not telling me at all, and even more so, not writing my name on the papers.

I no longer went to the market. I went through the back door, opened the cupboard, and took out a stack of papers I had secretly kept before the wedding.

Shock at Dinner
At dinner, my husband’s family stared wide-eyed when they didn’t see me bring a single tray of food. Instead, I placed a stack of bright red papers in front of them: the transfer deed for a plot of land worth one crore rupees in the suburbs of Noida—a property my biological parents had given me before the wedding.

I said calmly, firmly:

“This dowry, if the family wants to be united, the second apartment must be in the names of both husband and wife. Otherwise, I’m sorry, everyone will keep it separately. There’s no need for me to invest my hard work and money while I’m treated like an outsider.”

The room fell silent. My father-in-law – Mr. Kapoor – avoided my gaze and turned away. My mother-in-law’s voice choked, unable to speak. Ravi’s face turned pale, beads of sweat beaded on his forehead.

That same afternoon, Ravi himself had to take me to the ward notary’s office to complete the process of registering my name on the deed. He didn’t dare say a word, just silently signed.

Part 2: When Asha was no longer the silent daughter-in-law

The day Ravi was forced to take me to the ward for the Gurgaon apartment, the atmosphere in the Kapoor family changed significantly. Ravi became quiet, and his father-in-law became much less talkative. Only his mother-in-law – Savita Kapoor – was unwilling to let him go.

She always found ways to tease and taunt him. Once, when relatives came to visit, she laughed bitterly:

“Women these days are so good. They don’t know how to cook, but they’re adept at demanding their names on their property.”

Everyone in the room was focused on me. Previously, I would have blushed and remained silent. But this time, I raised my head and calmly replied:

“Women these days know how to be independent, how to protect their rights and those of their children. If there’s a marriage, everything should be legal. I don’t mind my relatives knowing this.”

The atmosphere in the room calmed down. Some relatives nodded and smiled in agreement. I knew I wouldn’t be humiliated this time.

The Silent Battle
Savita didn’t give up. She began directly interfering with expenses. One day, she called Ravi into the room, deliberately speaking loudly so I could hear:
“Son, don’t do anything stupid. If a woman gets her name on the property and then leaves, you’ll lose everything. It’s better to put your name on it, and let me keep the Lal Kitab, just for safety.”

I went in, frankly:
“Mom, if you still consider me your daughter-in-law, please don’t teach my husband to cheat on his wife. I came to Ravi not because of this apartment, but because of love. But if love is disregarded, I won’t hesitate to leave—and take with me even the personal property my parents gave me.”

Savita was stunned, and Ravi looked at me in surprise. Perhaps he had never seen me so strong before.

Hope arose.

In the days that followed, I no longer did everything as quietly as before. I hired an hourly maid and spent time learning financial management. I began helping Ravi with his company, offering suggestions freely.

Once, during dinner, my mother-in-law pointed out:

“Women should manage the kitchen, but interfering in men’s work will only cause trouble.”

I smiled:
“Mom, I’m used to being looked down upon. But the results will show themselves. If I help Ravi increase the company’s profits, maybe this old attitude will change.”

Ravi remained silent, but his gaze had changed. Now there was not only surprise, but also admiration.

Climax

Finally, when Ravi’s company signed a major contract thanks to my idea, Ravi stood up in front of the entire family and said:
“If it weren’t for Asha, I wouldn’t have signed this contract. Mom, from now on, don’t look down on my wife. She’s not just the Kapoor family’s daughter-in-law, she’s also my life partner.”

Savita was speechless, unable to utter a word. I knew this wasn’t the end. But for the first time in my marriage, I clearly felt I had regained my voice, my rightful place in this family.