“It is funny how people change. It is even a worse feeling
when you see your emotions changing towards someone you thought life could not
be complete with. Here I am, facing these two emotions at the same time and
being hurt and badly at that. I have also moved on and drained my system
partially of that being, but it is killing. My mind and heart, both tell me
there is no going back to that muck. The circumstances that show up and engulf
me each day force me to make this decision over and over again – only to make
me bitterer about the person who hurt me. I could have lived with the world
calling me names, had that one person stood by me. That one person, who broke
me so badly, that it does not pain anymore. I am numb, with all the soreness. I
am blank, with all the emotional drama both on the inside and out. I am done
with you – that one person and I hope you know that. Because, when I am done. I
am done. “
16 February, 2015
She wrote this waking up one rainy morning. After a night
that washed her face off tears similar to the symbolic earth outside being
washed off its soil by the morning rain. Soil. Yes, that’s what we all are made
of. Her’s was more brittle, this day, as she sat sipping on a cup of hot chocolate
and looking outside. It all seemed so still, right after the washout. Not a
movement, only to be occasionally broken by a passing vehicle.
As she sat looking outside her window, thinking aimless thoughts,
she wrote her heart out, in almost the same way she always had. And, more so,
after a heartbreak. It broke her, but there was no pain anymore. It tore her
into innumerous pieces from within, yet there were no scar on the outside. She
held a beautiful smile, beneath the turmoil of torture.
She had not been the same person, for she was making her
life accustomed to the needs of her lover. She would do things he liked. She
would do her little things, in her head mostly, and when he was not around. She
would succeed at completing her errands and the household work before he
reached home back from office, just so she was free to give all her love, time
and energy to him. She would forget about her pain in the shoulders, and sit
for hours together to complete work quickly, so she could tidy up the house and
get the kitchen clean, before he gets home – only to have time with him. Her
work was as strenuous as that of any other corporate worker. He said that he
understood, but she felt differently.
She forgo every time what she was craving to eat for hours
and days, just because he mentioned he wants to eat a different pie. She would
sit beside him as he glared on the television for hours without not talking.
She would sit beside him as he spoke to his near and dear ones, craving for the
same attention she saw him giving others. She would mug up the courage to let
him know every now and then, that she wants to do one thing over the other,
only to face a lukey yes or a complete dismissal of her feelings. She waited
for the phone to ring with the tune of her favorite song, only to listen to his
voice. He called, more as a formal obligation, because in previous conversational
fights the “who-will-call-once-a-day” decision was made and he would call to
avoid breaking that unsaid pact.
This girl was the wife. Like any other in the year of 2015.
Having lived in this marriage for over two years, she was lost and struggled to
be found, wondering what she was doing was wrong. She would give her time
thinking of all the possible things she did not do correctly, of how she had
heard and seen women adjust to their new homes, of how every girl was capable
of creating her own home. She like the others she saw, wanted to ace at it. She
did things in her mind and power to keep the peace of her house. She knew
finances were important, and so spent wisely on only the household items that
were required in common. She died in guilt, if she liked a dress at the mall,
dreamed of it and forgot about it, for the sake of saving those pennies and
deploying that amount to the common good of her companion and her.
She ate less. Not because of the sheer reason that her appetite
was less. But, because, she did not want to be called a gluten. She managed her
work and time around the time of the help that would come to the house to clean
and mop it. She knew exercise was important. She let that go, for a few extra
minutes of sleep. Sleeping was the only time when she would feel safe. He
always had a problem with her sleeping in bed and would say this to her more
often than required. She quietly listened and pretended to be in sleep
sometimes, replied back at other times and try and reason it out with him on
some occasions, but she knew none of the options she exercised had an
acceptance with him. He said he did not like it and that was it.
He did not speak to her. Not anymore. He used to talk tons
to her, sweet stuff in their courtship period and just maybe a couple of months
post the wedding. Things were not the same though. From day one, she felt
watched and judged with every breath she took. The real she, felt thrown in
front of an audience that did not appreciate her worth. She faced jealousy, criticism,
subordination and dictates. Also, fear, hurt, stares and words that would cut
through her like a sword. She yielded, every time thinking it was she who had
to go through it – like every girl would, who is married to an arranged setup.
She spoke to him sometimes, telling his love how she felt,
only to face a fake acceptance followed by rendering her a cold shoulder and
changed rigid behavior. She decided not once, but multiple times, she would not
communicate how she feels and will try and sort out her feeling within herself,
without disturbing him or any other soul. She succeeded at this resolve of her
on multiple occasions, only to have the same scars infected with more
bitterness multiple times. She would voice her thoughts sometimes to her love
and let out her anger. Anger – that was more a picture of her fear and frustration.
She felt choked. The only person, she thought is her world and had submitted
her complete self to him, did not care. It would kill her. But, she lived with
it.
They would go out for dinners though. Lots of time. Mostly,
with friends. She had a feeling he did not want to be alone with her. He would
run away from the thought of going out alone with her, unless it was for
grocery or shopping or some work that they could speak about while driving both
ways. She told him – “lets talk” and he would say – “I am listening – you say what
you want to”. This gave her a feeling that it was only her who felt the urge to
communicate and share emotions. He did not.
With family around, he would not acknowledge her presence,
never look at her in the eye, not face her when she would be criticized and
judged wrongly. He would never realize or consider that during their time with
the family, if it was his holiday time, so it was hers too. He would say – “Its
my holiday, so I would laze around and relax”. Well, it was holiday for her too
– and she was up early that usual, bathed and ready each day like a new bride,
standing in the kitchen helping the elders with their errands. He did not speak
to her at all, while around family. Her opinion was belittled and so she chose
only to listen. He was not fine with this approach as well and demeaned her every
time in front of the family and let the family do the same to her too. She sat
there feeling small and yet she smiled.
Her hobbies, she had shed a couple and craved to pick up
some new ones. She was constantly in the need of some nod of agreement from
him, before she could pursue her choices. She spoke about these to him. He
spoke about planning about them, testing them out and the finances involved.
Hobbies die when subjected to conditions. This he did not understand. This she
knew.
Bout her own personal preferences, he cared little. Each
time he would ask – “what do you want to do”, she would reply with a mean “anything,
that you like”. The hated this reply, that came so naturally to her. She loved
him and it was only her second nature to do the things he loved. This however
ticked him off, and she repented on her affable utterance for days altogether.
There was a battle she was fighting internally each day. She
would talk about some of her fears to a couple of her close friends. Friends,
who never gave her a word of wrong. Some cautioned her on the downfall her
heart was facing and urged her to break the chains. She never had the courage.
Simply because, she wanted to be wound in those chains. She wanted to be an
equal part of her new family. It was a different case that she was not
understood, or taken wrongly and adjudged in suspicion. She craved to be loved.
This girl – the protagonist, is a wonderful happy person
through her core. If you met her, you would say she is as warm as the sun at 10
on a summer day. Her shine however was asked to be hidden. She was told to not
be one thing and be another. She would feel weird about this feeling. She had
never been fake. Diplomacy was never her thing. She would rather die than be
diplomatic.
If you are reading this – I want you to ask yourself – are you
this girl?
Don’t be. If you relate to this article – please know you
are doing something wrong. Gravely.
Know that you have
the right to be yourself no matter whom you love and give all your love and
life to.
Please do this for your own self. You and you alone need to
do this for yourself. Nobody, even the one you love will stand up for you. If
he does – consider yourself lucky and blessed.
I pray that love fills your heart just like it fills hers.
With the good to be with you always.
- Simar
8:51 AM16 February, 2015
