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I do not think about my rights every morning.

I wake up, get ready for the office, complain about traffic, answer client emails, think about deadlines, plan weekends and worry about making it at the gym. My official documents are usually used when I board a flight, book a hotel or file my taxes. They have never been used as documents of survival; they have been documents of convenience.

Being born in a Hindu family, I have never wondered whether my name alone would make a landlord hesitate before renting me a home. I have never had to prove that I belong in the country of my birth. My struggles, like those of countless women, have revolved around safety, expectations and the quiet negotiations that accompany everyday life. I have parents who believed my education mattered, a family that respects my career, and the opportunity to build a life I want. 

I lead a normal life and in the society and country we are in, I have understood my quiet privileges. We often associate privilege with something extravagant. A luxury car, sprawling house, international trips. Perhaps the greatest privilege in India today is much simpler.

It is not wealth or luxury. It is not having to think of the institution standing by us.

It is the privilege of believing that institutions will continue to function without ever having to test them. To trust that the police will protect you before you need them. To trust that the courts will hear you before you enter one. To trust that expressing an opinion will remain........

© The Wire