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(This is before Covid )
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, a stranger looking back at me. My eyes, usually bright with a forced cheer, are dull today.
The weight of expectations presses down on me, heavy and suffocating. I'm the daughter of a politician, a title that comes with more chains than crowns.
They see me as a trophy, a pretty face to parade around at charity events. A tool to polish their image.
But I'm not a doll, I'm a person with dreams, with aspirations that stretch far beyond the confines of this gilded cage.
Journalism. The word tastes like freedom on my tongue. It's a world of ink and questions, of uncovering truths and giving voice to the voiceless. A world far removed from the sanitized reality my family inhabits.
But how do I break free? How do I convince them that my life isn't a stepping stone to their political ambitions? That I have a soul, a mind, a heart that yearns for something more than just being a politician's daughter?
I turn away from the mirror, a surge of determination coursing through me. I won't let their vision of my life become my reality. I'll fight for my dreams, no matter the cost. After all, I may be trapped in a gilded cage, but I have a key, and I'm determined to unlock the door.
I slip into Kanav's(Maya's elder brother) room, the soft glow of his laptop illuminating his face. He glances up, a hint of worry in his eyes. "Can't sleep, little sis?"
I shake my head, sinking onto his bed. "I just... I don't know." I trail off, unable to find the right words.
Kanav places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You're feeling trapped, aren't you?"
I nod, the silent tears threatening to spill. "I want to be more than just their daughter. I want to make a difference, to have a voice."
He listens patiently, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know, Maya. I've seen how hard it is for you to live with the Kashyap surname. But remember, you're strong. You have a mind of your own. "
A spark ignites within me. "I won't let them define me," I declare, finding my voice.
The next morning, I confronted my parents at the breakfast table. Their eyes flick up, surprise temporarily masking their usual indifference.
"I want to study journalism," I announce, my voice steady.
My mother(Mrs. Sonal Kashyap) raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Journalism? Darling, that's such a... down-to-earth profession. Are you sure you don't want to consider something more... suitable?"
Then my father(Mr. Kunal Kashyap) clears his throat, his gaze hard. "Journalism is a competitive field. Are you prepared for the challenges?"
I meet their gaze, refusing to back down. "I'm prepared for anything. Because unlike you, I don't see journalism as a stepping stone. I see it as a path."
