Last week, photographer Nitya Rao wrote a lovely article in BLink ( The tyranny lifts ) about the frustrations of being on an H4 visa in the US. H4 status does not allow its holder — the spouse of an H1B visa holder — the option to seek employment or start a business in the country. After reading the piece, I logged on to a few blogs and Facebook pages, which worked as support groups to thousands of people, mostly women, who are forced to live a life of such utter boredom that the most exciting event of their day might be taking the trash out. All the accounts in these forums are about how depressing and damaging it is for educated women to see their lives reduced to cooking, cleaning and making babies.

I was startled by how familiar these stories sounded to me — both in their tone of helpless defeat and the words used — self-respect, depression, dependence, suffocating, damaging to self and spouse. A couple of years ago, when I was travelling across the country researching my book on the Indian mother-in-law, these were the exact same words I heard. Of the many things that daughters-in-law lose control over once they get married, their wardrobe and career choices are the foremost. Even before the wedding, daughters-in-law are told how they would be required to dress and whether they would have the freedom to work or not.

Anshika (name changed), a daughter-in-law whose story is featured in the book, told me that when she met her future mother-in-law for the first time, she was told in no uncertain terms that she would have to quit her job and stay home. Anshika taught in an international school in Mumbai and had been dating Rahul since the two were in Class 10. Because she was so eager to get married to him no matter what, Anshika toed the line and gave up her job. “It was hell,” she told me, “once Rahul and his dad left for office, there was nothing to do. My mother-in-law kept finding faults with things I did — the shoes weren’t lined up properly, the fridge wasn’t spotless — and I’d just sit there and stew in it. I would wait for Rahul to come home in the evening so that I could lash out at him. It was a pressure cooker and after a year I thought I could either go back to work or sit here and slowly go mad.” She spent another year trying to convince her in-laws about going back to work. Finally, by the time she went back to teaching at the same school, her marriage and her relationship with her in-laws had taken such a severe beating that the scars of it continue to haunt all of them. Despite the fact that she now has to do double duty — chores at home and her work in school — Anshika is a much happier person. “I feel that I can now breathe. I have colleagues to talk to. And some place to hide from my mother-in-law for a few hours every day. My job almost saved my life,” she told me.

Anshika wasn’t the only one. Across the board, especially in north Indian families, a working wife is still seen as some kind of a blot on the family’s honour. Nikita, another daughter-in-law, told me that her mother-in-law never blessed the marriage purely because she was a working woman. Even when she offered to quit her job, Nikita was told that she wouldn’t be accepted because her professional life had tarnished her forever. What was shocking to me wasn’t the fact that these stories exist, but the reality that these were women from urban, educated families. Anshika’s in-laws are successful business-people, their Facebook photographs frequently feature Chanel bags, cruise ships and colourful cocktails on exotic beaches. Nikita’s two sisters-in-law are both educated and employed. But her mother-in-law wouldn’t accord her the same freedom that she had allowed her daughters.

The stories of millions like Anshika and Nikita are reflected in the statistics of the leaking pipeline, the number of women who quit their jobs before reaching middle-management positions. India fares poorly, even when compared to other countries in Asia, with nearly 50 per cent women employees dropping out of the workforce within a few years of starting their careers. The gender ratio in Indian offices is a decent 29 per cent at junior management levels. At middle management, this is 15 per cent. And if you look at corner offices, it’s a pitiable 9 per cent. While some women voluntarily opt out of employment in order to look after their children, a large majority is forced to choose between a job and a family.

In the light of the celebrations over the US changing its visa rules, it is imperative that we look within our homes and take cognisance of the depression, loss of financial freedom and self-respect that is inflicted on the forcibly unemployed here. That would mean taking on the formidable forces of tradition, culture and family values. Sadly, that’s a challenge very few are ready for.

(Veena Venugopal is editor BLink and author of The Mother-in-Law. Follow her on Twitter @veenavenugopal )