i don’t remember her name but i remember her story.

at a village on the outskirts of jaisalmer, a woman sat washing utensils at a community tap. along with her were many other women. with her thick kajal and her heavy silver jewelry i was drawn in. so stopped and talk, and ask her where she got that beautiful payal from…. the usual questions followed, was she married? how many kids?

she has three kids, all boys. but she had two deliveries before that. they were both girls. but she had ‘let them go’. i didn’t understand, and pushed for more. she went on… there is no life for girls, too much money to get them married, no use to have girls, so i ‘let them go’…

i looked around to note that there were little boys gathered around us, but almost no little girls… it was sinking in, no little girls… ‘i let them go’… she killed them?

then she said, take a picture of me with my sisters. there were four of them. and she went back to washing her utensils.