The Singwai family in Dhani Bhojraj village of Fatehabad district of Haryana is filled with sounds of happiness and joy. Trophies earned from dance, kabaddi and kho-kho competitions are kept by the nine daughters of the family on a shelf above their mother’s bed. Pictures of small children are pasted on the wall above the trophies.
Thirteen-year-old Sushila, Sunita and Sanjay Singwai’s third daughter, holds up a drawing made last year of an imaginary brother, a smiling child surrounded by butterflies, hearts and teddy bears, and compares it with her real brother who was born on January 4. He is happy because no one at school will dare call him “brother-less” again.
Lying in bed with her nearly two-week-old son, his mother says the taunts were relentless. Sunita, 37, says, “I never looked at girls and boys differently. But once I was carrying a neighbour’s child in my lap and she snatched it away, thinking that I would take him away because I don’t have a son. That was the day I decided that I had to have a boy, no matter what.”
“No matter what” meant 11 pregnancies. Sunita admits that she is tired, but her “family is complete now”. Their eldest daughter, 18-year-old Sarina, recalls, “She (mother) was always pregnant. Sometimes we were worried, but we never asked her to stop. Who doesn’t want a brother?” “The fun with brother is different,” she says smiling.
Sunita could not come home immediately after her delivery on January 4 as she required blood transfusion due to anemia and a weak uterus from frequent pregnancies. However, the celebrations began nonetheless. Neighbors and relatives gathered, balloons were hung in the courtyard, daughters made “Welcome” signs and a DJ was called. “Even people who used to taunt us came. They said God had finally heard our prayers,” says Sarina.
Outside the room where Sunita is resting, her husband is sitting on a cot surrounded by his daughters. “It doesn’t mean I don’t love my girls… it’s a misconception,” says Sanjay, 38, who works in a plywood factory 15 km away. His ninth daughter, three-year-old Anna, climbs up to kiss his cheek, causing others to giggle. She then proceeds to kiss each of her sisters.
The family says that no coercion was done. Sanjay says, “It is very common to want a son. Girls feel the lack of a brother. Many people commit female foeticide, but you can see all my daughters here.” He wants to educate his son and make him a ‘big officer’. About his daughters he says, “Girls can also do everything. They will study and do jobs. We will soon start thinking about their marriage.”
‘Every girl needs a brother’
However, for Sunita the pressure was not just internal, it came from the community. She says, “The neighbors used to make fun of me and say that I have given birth to daughters to help in the household work.” Originally from Rajasthan, she has five brothers and one sister.
When she would go to her village for Raksha Bandhan, her daughters would cry: “You have brothers, what about us?” In Dhani Bhojraj, which is surrounded by lush green fields, one sees more men than women on the streets, and women on the street cover their faces completely with dupattas except their eyes. Residents recognize the Singwai family as “the family that finally had a boy”.
The other daughter, 17-year-old Amrita, says the way her classmates treated her also sparked her desire to have a brother. “Girls at school would brag loudly about how their brothers would bring them gifts or take them out. They would say these things on purpose when I was around.” Her sisters nod, and say the ridicule sometimes makes them cry. “Every girl needs a brother because we have to go far away for exams or competitions and there is no one to accompany us,” says Sarina. Most of the sisters study in a government school just a few meters away.
improvement in numbers
According to a report published by the United Nations in 2020, while son preference is not a human rights violation in itself, it is “entangled in a web of social relations that reflect, generate and reproduce gender stereotypes”, and the perpetuation of these stereotypes subordinates women to men and girls to boys, which is a violation of human rights. The sex ratio in Haryana in the 2011 census was the lowest in the country, at 879 females per 1,000 males. Since then, government efforts have made clear progress. According to the Civil Registration System, also known as the Birth and Death Registration System, the state’s sex ratio at birth is set to increase to 923 in 2025, the highest in five years. However, the Sample Registration System, a demographic sample survey conducted by the Office of the Registrar General of India, shows a low proportion, but an improving trend: it increased from 843 in 2018 to 884 in 2023, although still below the national average of 917.
Despite these benefits, officials say, the desire for a son remains strong, especially among low-income families. Lakshmi, an accredited social health worker who lives a block away, says the desire for a boy is woven into everyday thinking. She says, “Many families still believe that a son will carry on the family name. This is more common in places where financial conditions are weak. Although it is risky for mothers, many continue to have children until they have a son.” Lakshmi says that despite the improvement in sex ratio, the priority of the son remains.
Sunil Jaglan, a Haryana-based activist who started the ‘Selfie with Daughter’ campaign in 2017, says the issue is not limited to one household or one community. Sunil says, “Women have to face collective pressure. Right from childhood they are told that a boy will carry forward the family name.” Now registered as an NGO, the Selfie with Daughter Foundation has volunteers across the state and conducts surveys to understand the roots of the preference for sons. Sunil says his findings reveal two contrasting patterns. He says, “Affluent families still engage in female foeticide, and hence have very few daughters. When something is banned or controlled, it becomes expensive. Meanwhile, poor families continue to have daughters until a boy is born. Ironically, this contributes to an improvement in the sex ratio.”
At the house in Singwai, Sanjay insists that his wish has nothing to do with inheritance. “We don’t have any land. It was just our wish,” he says.
Sanjay’s 60-year-old mother Maya says, ‘The son came after a lot of difficulties but I am happy that I have a grandson.’ However, she also insists that there was no pressure on the mother.
A drawing of an imaginary baby brother was drawn by a daughter last year. | Photo Credit: RV Murthy
cultural imprint
Sunil says Improvement in sex ratio in Haryana This does not reflect a decline in preference for sons. He says the preference is embedded in cultural terminology, rituals and songs. His team has studied folk songs sung at births and weddings. “Songs for girls talk about how she will leave the family after marriage and become ‘paraya (a stranger)’. Songs for boys praise the arrival of a ‘rajkumar (prince)’ who will carry on the family name and bring glory.”
He explains that IVF clinics often display posters depicting a “perfect” family – a boy and a girl. “Even language reflects bias: many parents address their daughters as ‘son’, avoiding ‘beti’,” says Sunil. ‘I am a daughter, call me daughter’ (I am a daughter, call me daughter)’, a campaign urging parents to embrace the word ‘daughter’ without shame.
Karan Juneja, a Gurugram-based doctor and convenor of the Indian Medical Association’s Junior Doctors Network (Northern Region), says the cultural roots of boy preference make it dangerous for women’s health. “Frequent childbirth weakens bone density and leaves women exhausted. Doctors talk about the risks, but the mindset persists. We need early conversations, starting with schools,” he says.
Even the Singwai sisters admit that despite celebrating all the moments – the birth of a daughter, a medal, a birthday – nothing matches the enthusiasm with which their brother was welcomed home.
‘Welcome’ sign put up at the house of the Singwai family. | Photo Credit: RV Murthy
excited but tired
Sunita admits that she never stopped thinking about her well-being. She wishes she were educated, but she never had a chance to go to school. Their marriage in 2007 was arranged by relatives, and soon after came Sarina, followed by Amrita, Sushila, Kiran, Divya, Mannat, Kritika, Avneesh, Aina and Vaishali. All her deliveries were normal, three in private facilities and the rest in government hospitals.
She says, every daughter increases her pride. She adds, “Sarina and Amrita are Haryanvi folk dancers with trophies to their credit. Sushila draws beautifully. Amrita and Divya excel in Kabaddi and Kho-Kho.” Despite her love for him, Sunita’s heart wanted relief from the taunts. With the help of their daughters, they have named their son Dilkush, which means happy heart. His surname Ishant means new beginning.
Sunita says she doesn’t regret her path, but hopes no other woman has to endure so many pregnancies. Asked which daughter most resembles her, she laughs: “They all look like me. Look at their faces – don’t we look alike?” Looking across the room at her daughters’ crowd, while her son sleeps in her lap, she pauses and says softly, “But my face isn’t the same anymore. I look tired.”
