While thousands paraded joyfully through Dhaka’s streets on Pahela Baishakh, soaking in the festive chaos of colors and drums, one woman found herself face-to-face with a familiar figure—or so she thought. Spotting a symbolic motif in the procession, she burst into laughter on camera: “That fascist face? Looks just like my mother-in-law! Heehee… The resemblance was uncanny. That’s why it felt so… her. Everyone’s a little scared of her mother-in law. So yeah, definitely had MIL vibes.”
Within minutes, social media did what it does best—took this nugget of humour and turned it into a cultural meme. While some chuckled at her cheek, others squinted deeper—was it just a joke, or a cleverly disguised social commentary?
Soon, the great internet jury split into two factions: one blaming the fearsome MIL (mother-in-law), the other suspecting the scheming DIL (daughter-in-law). Some even waxed poetic: “It’s not the face, nor the mask—it’s the mindset that matters!”
But if you ask any Bengali, MIL vs. DIL saga is as old as time itself—equal parts love and war, like British weather. One moment sunny smiles, the next a thunderstorm of silent stares. A cocktail of affection and passive aggression, laced with invisible daggers behind every compliment.
And if you still don’t believe it, ask Google. Type “bengali rhyme on mother-in-law” and it will nonchalantly offer Sukumar Ray’s iconic nonsense rhyme “Aari”—a poem that, while making no mention of MILs or DILs, perfectly captures their cold wars in verse.
For the uninitiated, here’s a sample: “Enemies they be, like snakes and mongooses/ Or eggplants and frying oil that always cause bruises… (Translated from `Aari’ of Ray)
This generational tension isn’t just folklore—it’s literary canon.
Jump from Ray to Rabindranath, and you’ll find subtle jabs even in Shesher Kobita, where Amit’s mother refuses to accept Labonya as a potential bride. Why? “She’s not from a proper family,” “She reads too much,” “She’ll turn my poet son into a lunatic.”
Translation? “Not my type of girl.”
Sound familiar?
It’s the eternal fear of every MIL: “If she outsmarts me, whose rule is it anyway?” While every DIL thinks: “She just wants to turn me into a relic from her generation!”
Poets couldn’t resist either.
Humayun Azad dropped this zinger: “She’s not my wife/ She’s my mother’s rival.”
Ahsan Habib, in a more childlike voice, wrote: “You say wake up/ I say sleep/ You say eat rice/ I say tea.”
Apt for MIL-DIL dynamics, no?
Even when the MIL sweetly suggests, “Let him eat in front of the TV,” the DIL goes, “Nope. Dining table it is.” No open conflict, of course, but if CCTV existed in thoughts, we’d have an entire soap opera of cold glares and internal monologues.
Jasimuddin in `Nakshi Kanthar Math’ painted woman’s sorrow in a patriarchal household, often caused by… other women. Hello, MILs.
But let’s not get grim. Because this war isn’t all bombs—it has banter too.
A MIL welcomes the bride saying, “Another daughter in my life!” Weeks later: “Well, like a daughter, but not really.” A few more weeks: “This girl’s changed my boy entirely!”
Meanwhile, the DIL tells her mom over phone, “She sits alone watching TV, but the moment I touch the remote—suddenly she’s a channel critic!”
It’s not about breaking ties. It’s about mastering them with emotional diplomacy.
Even Subhash Mukhopadhyay sneakily captured it in his poem “Mood”: “Mother-in-law chanting quietly/ hand in purse/ Daughter-in-law marching off— heels clicking, silence speaking louder.”
Literature aside, cinema too had a say. Ever watched “Bou-Shashuri Juddho” (Daughter-in-law vs. Mother-in-law War)? With that title, what’s left to interpret?
Now, evolution is real—even for MILs.
They make Reels with DILs, comment on their Facebook posts, plan joint vacations, wear matching saris. And yes, post all of it on their own socials with hashtags like #BestMILever.
But the DIL? She’s thinking: “If MIL’s in my friend list, it’s basically a 24/7 surveillance feed.” She doesn’t dare click unfriend—though her soul wants to hit block.
Because really—what does the heart want?
This relationship isn’t fascist vs. feminist, it’s ego vs. empathy. Sometimes sweet, sometimes salty. A tug-of-war between two women linked by one man who just wants to finish his meal in peace.
And maybe—just maybe—that viral woman who laughed seeing her MIL in the face of a fascist effigy was not making a political joke at all. Perhaps it was her personal revolution.
And that boy standing behind her? Probably her son.
Let’s just hope, when he gets married, his wife doesn’t look at this woman and say— “Fascist? Yep, she reminds me of my MIL.”
So the future MIL, here’s your takeaway: if not plastic surgery, at least book that beauty parlour appointment.
Because politics might not matter—but perception always does.
(A pure satire)