Colonial Hangover, Patriarchal Legacy: When ‘Choice’ Isn’t Really A Choice

Switching TV channels and getting a free guidebook on how to be the perfect epitome of an Indian woman. The one who can multitask and handle everything. Crazy, right? Yes, we’re talking about the privileges of Indian women—independence with a sprinkle of colonial legacy. You see, the woman on TV is always balancing a career, household chores, emotional labour, and the well-being of everyone around her. Take shows like Saath Nibhaana Saathiya or Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi—the women on these serials do it all. It’s like there’s this expectation that being independent means doing it all. And trust me, I’ve seen it up close—growing up watching my mom juggle all of this without hesitation. But how much of this is real independence, and how much of it is an old script, passed down from our colonial past? 

Then I realised—oh, it’s not just something that happens in my household. This is a common tale told in every home. We often hear, “A house is incomplete without a woman.” If I take the utopian idea of that, maybe it would’ve been something to be proud of. But we’re living the dystopian reality: a house is called incomplete not because a woman brings love and warmth, but because the daughter-in-law, the sister, or the daughter is out there chasing her dreams. And if she’s doing that, then who’s going to babysit the family members? 

The Hidden Cost of Being the “Ideal Woman”

My mom’s workday officially starts at 8 AM, but her day begins at 5. Why? Because she needs to prepare meals, clean the house, and make sure everything’s in order—before she puts on the mask of being an “independent, privileged woman.” No one claps for those morning hours, but they take a toll, physically, mentally. And what makes it worse is that, in most cases, these duties aren’t a choice—they’re expectations. Expectations stitched into a woman’s life from the moment she’s born. 

Even I’ve heard it growing up: “You can be in any profession you want, but you must know how to do household chores. After all, you’re a girl.” 

And let me make something crystal clear—I don’t have a problem learning these skills. What I do have a problem with is how they’re introduced to us. Not as life skills for everyone, but as responsibilities tied to gender. Let us learn these things naturally—as something everyone should know—not because we’re girls, but because we’re human. 

When a woman gets married, it’s like she’s doing an internship at her own home—learning to cook, clean, manage—because eventually, she’s going to get “placed.” And what’s this placement? A lifelong role where she’s expected to manage the household like it’s her job—and manage a job like it’s just another household task. No breaks, no applause, just expectation dressed up as tradition. And we call that progress. 

This is exactly what I mean by the colonial hangover—the patriarchal colonialism. Was independence meant only for the country’s men? Because women are still fighting their own freedom battles inside their homes. The tools may have changed, the language may sound modern, but the roles? They're centuries old, wrapped in newer packaging. 

I am not saying she should abandon her household duties—but let’s stop treating them like obligations written into her DNA. If she wants to skip a task because she’s tired, she should be allowed to. If she’s late to work, she shouldn’t be met with taunts. All she’s asking for is the freedom to be human—to rest, to say no, to choose. Because real independence isn’t about doing it all; it’s about having the agency to decide what matters to you. The expectation shouldn’t lie in the glances of four people waiting at the table—it should begin and end with her own voice. And that’s exactly the kind of change we need to talk about. That’s the shift we are hoping for: a world where women don’t just carry the load—they decide if they want to carry it at all. 

Views expressed by the author are their own.