ഇനി എത്ര ദൂരം

 To the Woman Who Shaped Me 

"Not every daughter-in-laws

 are perfect, but a perfect mother-in-law makes her one".

 In today’s world, the word mother-in-law still often carries fear and judgment. Society has long wrapped this figure in layers of misunderstanding and stereotypes. Stories of dowry demands, controlling behavior, and endless conflicts between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law still make headlines. Many women enter marriage carrying not just dreams, but also fear — fear of rejection, fear of comparison, fear of never being enough. I too carried such fears. Growing up as a fatherless child, I was strong on the outside but fragile within. My stubbornness was not pride, but armor. Even when I stepped into a marriage of choice, I carried that shield with me, perhaps too tightly. I believed I could never survive without my Amma, but life gently proved me wrong. With tears hidden in my pillow and courage stitched into my smile, I left behind her comforting arms and walked into a new home. The shift was terrifying — from the familiar embrace of Guruvayur to the unfamiliar rhythms of Perinthalmanna. The food, the language, the mannerisms, the expectations — everything felt like another world. And in that world, I felt like a lost child disguised as a new bride.

And then she entered. Not with the iron hand of authority that society often whispers about, but with the gentle touch of grace. My mother-in-law did not see me as a rival or an outsider; she saw me as a daughter. In a time when many women are still crushed under the weight of dowry, she lifted the weight off my shoulders with her acceptance. In a culture where daughters-in-law are often measured by how well they cook or how obediently they bend, she measured me only by the depth of my heart. She gave me space when I needed it, guidance when I sought it, and love when I least expected it.

And then came the most delicate, vulnerable time of a woman’s life — pregnancy and delivery. I imagined Amma by my side, holding my hand through fear, calming me through pain. But fate was cruel. Covid came, and Amma could not be with me. The thought of giving birth without her broke me in ways I cannot describe. I felt like a child abandoned in the middle of a storm. But then, something unexpected happened. My mother-in-law stepped into that emptiness. When labor pains gripped me, it was her hand I held. When tears rolled down silently, it was her voice that whispered strength into me. When fear made me tremble, it was her presence that steadied me. In every moment where I thought I would collapse, she stood tall beside me — not as a distant mother-in-law, but as though Amma herself had extended her love through her.

That was the moment I realized: love does not end with one person. Love finds a way to reach you again, sometimes through another heart. In a world where many daughters-in-law are silenced by dowry demands or harsh comparisons, she chose acceptance. She never tried to break me. Instead, she gathered my broken pieces and held them together with love. Slowly, her small acts of care melted my arrogance. She did not make me feel like an outsider; she made me feel like a daughter who belonged. If Amma was the root that gave me strength, she was the shade that sheltered me. If Amma was the river that carried me through childhood, she was the ocean that received me in womanhood.

Dear Mother, you became the Amma I thought I had lost during the hardest moment of my life. You are the reason my pregnancy was not loneliness, but love. You are the reason my arrogance softened into trust. You are the reason I believe again that love is endless, limitless, and unconditional. I came to you as a daughter-in-law, but you held me as a daughter — and that is the greatest gift life has ever given me.

Ragi K Haridas 

Assistsant Professor 

Department of Computer Science 

Alshifa College of Arts and Science, Perinthalmanna