Not one even in her wildest dreams would she have ever thought it! Yet, there she was, standing elegantly ready to address her countrymen not just as Trishna, an ordinary village girl, but as a mature woman who carried herself with poise and elegance: who had struggled at every corner of life yet had never succumbed to defeat, a fighter in every possible way-clearly a reflection of me. Millions of eyes nation-wide and world-wide were glaring at her, eager to hear her deliver her speech as the Prime-Minister of the Kingdom of Nepal. It came as no surprise to me, I had been patiently waiting for this very day for the past thirty years.

"Hare Bhagwan! I must have done some misdeeds in my past life, for which god has punished my family and me by granting us with a daughter! But hey Bhagwan, I had prayed to thee day and night, lit incense in your temple two times a day and you in return have cursed my home with a girl child! Oh my neighbours will mock and scorn me! I will no longer be able to walk with my head high in the neighbourhood! You bestow that ungrateful Parvati with three grandsons and look at what you have done! Ram, Ram." Aama groaned after the news of the birth of a granddaughter was imparted to her.

Hearing all this commotion Hari Bahadur-my husband-came running from the fields. "Aama, what's wrong? Why are you shouting like this? I could hear your voice from the fields," he said.

Budhi Aama replied, " Son, there is very bad news, your wife just gave birth to a baby girl."

"What! Umm.Aama, I am going back to the fields! There is much work to be done, I may be late, so don't wait for me for dinner!"

It was not the kind of response one would expect from a father of a newborn. He showed no sign of delight. His enthusiasm had all of a sudden drained away. He did not even come to have a glimpse of his first child. Instead, he made his way back to the field, his face small and dim in disappointment.

The birth of a girl child wasn't thought to be an auspicious occasion in our Saaku village. Girl babies were considered worthless: they were a burden to the family.

"Do you know at the neighbouring house Parvati gave birth to a pest? Poor Hari Bahadur and Budi Aama!"

"Chhya, if I was Parvati, the first thing I would have done to this little bundle of garbage was to drown her in the Kundomati River."

This was the gossip that was making its rounds in the village.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just the villagers who considered girls to be troublesome pests. The unwanted birth of a baby girl was pretty well reflected in the overcast environment that our house was shrouded in. I hoped the situation in the house would improve after some time, but it got worse. Late one night my husband came in drunk from the village alcohol shop.

"Aey Parvati, come here! What is this? I have been knocking on the door for the past ten minutes and you come now? Do you expect your husband to wait for you?" He hollered and started jerking my hair and beat me up impulsively in the heat of intoxication. Gradually he started coming home later and later, sometimes at three at night, sometimes at five in the morning and ultimately he returned home less frequently. I did not know where he spent his nights and dared not question him. From the day of my daughter's birth he made special efforts to make me cry.

"Chhya! This dal tastes salty and this gundruk ko jol is bitter. Take it away! Do you expect me to eat it?" he complained.

My mother-in-law's behaviour towards me also got worse. She was irritated by everything I did. It became extremely difficult to please her. She refused to eat anything that I offered to her, always turning her nose away as if I were offering her some putrid food.

The atmosphere in the house was quite intolerable, but somehow I managed to survive. I was compelled to stay there, because I had a goal to fulfil. I wanted my daughter to have a better life than I did. I didn't want my daughter to swallow her own tears and suffer the taunts of this insensitive society. I didn't want her worth to be measured in the number of sons she gave birth to. Unlike me, she would have a strong spirit, a spirit that would battle against all odds and fight for her rights. I paid little heed to the tittle-tattle in the village and the hard time I was having trying to cope with my indifferent family. Nothing could manipulate me into thinking that my little bundle of joy baby was a curse.

"Trishna, where are you headed to? Have you taken the cattle out to graze? Listen, go upstairs to my room, there are some saris lying around on the floor, wash them properly. Make sure they are clean. Now what are you looking at, go off, do as you're told," Budi Aama ordered.

"Budi Aama, I am taking Trishna to get her admitted into Shanti Bidhya Shram Primary School. Come on chori, it's getting late!"

"School, have you gone mad? What for? There is no need for you to educate that child. She'll be going to her husband's house in a few years. Then it will be all their responsibility. Teach her housework and etiquette instead. That will be fruitful to her in her married life. Anyway we need her in the house to feed the cattle and graze them and to run errands. If she goes off, do you expect an old hag like me to toil all day and do all the housework? This is my age to go to Kashi and Haridwar!" she yelled, heating up for another argument.

"Have you seen any of the neighbourhood girls ever going to school? So why is it that only your sweetheart needs to attend school? You don't have to send her!"

I didn't feel it was necessary to answer her questions and start a dispute with her. I knew my girl had better things to do than household chores. She had school to attend. She had a bright future awaiting her with open arms.

My first success came when my daughter secured a first division in her SLC examinations-the first ever girl in Saaku village to even sit for the test. It was a miracle in itself. God's blessings were always with us, but more than that it was my faith in my daughter and in myself that if I had the desire, I could make it happen.

"Parvati, I agreed to let her study. She's passed the SLC now that's it. Enough of school and studying. Education isn't going to help her to find a good groom. It's high time we thought about marrying this girl off. If we delay it any further, no boy will be willing to marry her and we will be stuck with her for rest of our lives! And I don't want to feed an extra mouth forever!" my husband announced.

"She's just completed school, what about college and."

He cut me short, "I am not going to tolerate anymore nonsense from both mother and daughter. I have decided, she's going to be married by the end of this month, whether you like it or not and that's final. I want no more discussions on this topic. Have I made myself clear?"

Husband dear had made it quite impossible for me to send Trishna to a college in the village but I was not to be so easily defeated. I had promised myself not to falter under any circumstances. I thought about sending Trishna to Kathmandu. Financially it was very hard for me to afford to send her to the city. I sold all the jewellery that I had received as dowry for a handsome amount of money. My daughter had greater value than gold and silver: she was the biggest investment of my life. Due to god's good grace, Trishna received an 80 percent scholarship in Tribhuwan University. From there she went to India where she completed her Masters and a Diploma in law with a 100 percent scholarship.

Yes, it had been a long and gruelling journey. But the hope of freeing my child from the traditional role of daughter, daughter-in-law, wife and mother gave me the courage and determination to move forward. From the moment I first held her, I was convinced that this baby was no ordinary child! And there she was, my daughter, taking her oath as the first female Prime Minister of Nepal. I had come out as a winner in the greatest battle of my life.

(Trishna Rana's story concludes the winners of the British Council Short Story Competition.)