A Daughter’s Impact: A Guest Post From Rajasree Variyar, Author of The Daughters of Madurai, Our March Book Club Pick

The birth of a child should be a joyous moment. But for too many families in India, the arrival of their newborn is met with anger, grief — even despair. And it drives them to take action that, for many of us looking on from other parts of the world, is unimaginable.  

The reason? Their new baby is a girl. And for many families, the answer is too often female infanticide — the deliberate killing of their infants, the majority of them less than seven days old.  

This has been the reality of communities across the disparate, varied cultures of India.  

In the 1980s, journalists reported on what seemed to be the widespread practice of female infanticide in a number of districts in the southern state of Tamil Nadu, including Madurai. 

As we approach another International Women’s Month, it’s as important as ever to consider: what is it that drives a family to such an act? 

A simple question — a very complex answer. At the heart, however, is the entrenched social and cultural view in these communities that a female is of less worth than a male.  

Myriad factors — economic, cultural, religious — have come together to create this perception. The technically illegal practice of dowry-giving threatens girls’ families with destitution as they struggle to scrape together enough money to attract a groom for their daughters. Traditionally, women have been unable to open a bank account without the permission of a man — a husband, father, brother. They have not been able to inherit property, or even take the family name — the family dies with them. And it must be a son, not a daughter, that performs the funeral rites so that their parents may attain moksha, or enlightenment. 

The Daughters of Madurai explores the reality of female infanticide, and the repercussions that echo across generations. At the core, however, it seeks to depict the warmth, strength, and love of the women and girls who live within the grim confines of their culture — something I witnessed firsthand when I traveled to Madurai to research the novel.  

Because, of course, culture cannot erase the strength of a mother’s — and father’s — love for their newborn daughter. And so, there are as many cases when mothers have defied the expectations of their extended families and communities to fight for their daughters’ lives — just as Janani does.  

In The Daughters of Madurai, the iron strength of bonds between women — mothers and daughters, sisters, friends, mentors — is crucial. Not just for survival, but for laughter, love, and for hope, that no matter how grim the context that history and culture have created, change is possible, is already underway. 

International Women’s Month serves as an urgent prompt to reflect upon not just how far we have come, but how far we have left to go. And it’s a reminder for those who need it that a daughter is not a burden, but a blessing to her family and her world.