In the films Pagglait and Laapataa Ladies, the most powerful moment is when a woman quietly decides to choose herself. By the end of these films, we watch a woman board a bus all alone. No fanfare, no breakdown, just a simple choice. To leave behind everything expected of her, and to walk and ride into a future shaped by her own terms.
This image of a woman on a bus is more than a scene. It’s a metaphor for reclaiming space. Not just physical space, but emotional, mental, intellectual space. In Indian society, a woman is often defined by the roles she plays: daughter, wife, mother. But who is she when none of those labels apply? When she is no longer someone’s something?
The 2025 film Mrs. takes this question to the kitchen, the most sacred, silent space of control in a traditional Indian home. The protagonist is a newly married woman who is taught love through discipline, and respect through servitude. She cooks, cleans, folds into her husband’s family. It’s not dramatic but it is suffocating. And as days pass, she begins to understand that in the house she has been given no room for her dreams. So, she leaves, not with a bang but with quiet certainty. She boards her own bus.
That’s what makes these stories powerful. They don’t offer answers. They ask the most important question: what does it mean for a woman to choose herself? Relationships matter but why does the burden of preserving them fall on women alone? Look closely, and you will see in most homes, it’s the woman who remembers the festivals, who keeps the traditions, who makes sure the rituals are performed. Why? Who decided that duty and devotion must be gendered?
Sylvia Plath once wrote, “Oh how I want to be a writer, a journalist, and everything in this life.” That longing to be many things, all at once lives in the hearts of countless women. But too often, they are told to be sacrificing. And when they choose otherwise, they are asked, why now? Why leave? Why not adjust? But maybe the real question is, why not her?
So, when a woman boards a bus, in a film or in real life, she is not escaping. She is arriving into herself, into a version of her life that is not bound by vermilion or silence or sacrifice. She is transforming a freedom that’s easy to write about, but difficult to live. It’s time we not only see her board that bus but celebrate her for choosing herself.
Our epics, too, are filled with women who left. Sita, who crossed the threshold only to be questioned later. Draupadi, whose dignity was gambled and debated in full view. Yet even then, their stories were framed by duty, trial, and sacrifice. Their choices are narrated, but rarely owned.
Today, when an ordinary woman walks away from a marriage, a kitchen, a role she didn’t choose, she writes a new kind of story. One where the ending isn’t defined by who accepts her, but by the way she fully accepts herself. It’s time we stop expecting her to fight for every step she takes and simply make space for her to walk, sit, leave, return, or stay, without needing anyone’s permission.
Choosing oneself begins with owning an hour. Across Indian towns and cities, women are forming quiet circles of freedom, kitty parties that aren’t about gossip, but shared laughter and solidarity. Reading clubs in apartment basements. Morning walks that turn into therapy sessions. These are not revolutions, but they are resistance. For many women, this is the only space where they aren’t someone’s wife, mother, or daughter-in-law, just themselves. In these small rooms, over tea and books, they reclaim time not as a luxury, but a right.
Philosophers like Aristotle once argued that leisure is the foundation of a good life, that reflection, creativity, and community arise not from work, but from time freely chosen. Yet, for centuries, women have been denied that kind of leisure. Their time has been measured in chores and compromises. So, when women gather to read, to walk, to simply talk, they are not just indulging, they are reclaiming spaces. These hours of self-directed time are not escapes. They are acts of becoming.
As Simone de Beauvoir wrote, “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” And perhaps today, more women are choosing what kind of woman they wish to become by making space for themselves, one bus ride, one book club, one moment at a time.
Published – September 21, 2025 03:59 am IST