This is the second part of the story - Bedroom Politics. You can read the first part here.
Finally, Meera arrived
with a big smile on her face. She sat down and ordered for an Iced Tea.
“It feels so nice to be
outside without the baby!” Meera exhaled.
“Aww… Don’t say that Sia
is such a sweetheart. You should have brought her along,” Mehr said.
“She is a monster! Now
with her birthday approaching, she is getting so naughty. Her nani has her hands full,” she sipped on
her water, smiling proudly.
“How’s her father?”
Mehr asked.
Meera sighed and looked
at all the three expectant faces. She knew they wanted an update, and rightly
so. All three had been there, especially Mehr, counseling her and supporting
her every step of the way.
“He is fine. We are
trying to work things out,” she said nodding slightly.
“I can’t believe you
did what you did. I am so proud of you,” Mehr got up and hugged her friend.
Meera hugged her back,
smiling.
“I had to do it… for
Sia, for myself, for him. He had to understand that what he was doing was
wrong. A relationship, a marriage, is between two people… and both of them should
have a say. If something is making me uncomfortable, he has to understand.”
Sunaina, who was silent
up till now, spoke up softly, “But, still it takes a lot of courage to walk out
of a marriage.”
“I know, and to tell
you the truth I don’t even know where I got the strength to just ask him to
stop. I guess, the motherly instinct just woke up; it was much too strong then
the wife one,” she shrugged at the choice of words.
With her hands in her
lap, fingers entwined, thumbs rotating, she relayed the story she had told them
a couple of times already, “That constant drugging was making me so weak and dizzy
all the time… I couldn’t concentrate and with the added responsibility of nurturing
the baby growing inside me, I was so tired. I knew, and he knew, it was
obviously not good for the baby… and he did stop for a while but then it
started again. I had to do something. I had to protect my little girl. I had to
protect myself. So, I gave him the ultimatum - stop or I will leave.”
Sunaina, held Meera’s
hand. She knew what happened next. Meera, herself, had narrated this story a
couple of times… sobbing on the phone, crying when she went to meet the baby…
but she also knew that Meera had to get it out of her system… every now and
then. She needed confirmation that what she did, what she was doing, was right.
Sunaina held Meera’s joined hands and patted them gently.
“You know what hurt the
most?” she looked at Sunaina, with her big innocent eyes, filled with tears, “that
he didn’t stop me… that first time. I was six months pregnant with his baby and
he let me go; he let me walk out of our home. It made me believe for a long
time that as if sex was everything; the only thing that mattered in our
marriage. My self-esteem shattered, my self-image broke to smithereens.”
She untangled her hands
and pressed a tissue to her eyes before the tears could make their way down her
cheeks.
Sniffing and sobbing,
she smiled, “I am fine.”
“But, I thought
everything was okay between you too, now?” Chitra asked, concerned, handing her
friend a glass of water.
“Uhmm… Actually not
completely okay but we are getting there. He came to visit us in the hospital
when Sia was born. He says that seeing her lovely daughter changed something inside
of him; that he wouldn’t want her husband to do what he was doing to me. He
promised me not to drug me again, to respect my wishes; to give me the time to
heal and be ready for intimacy. He begged me to come home with him but I needed
time, you know. I can’t just forget everything and start fresh. It’s been 11
months, we are getting to know each other… again. It’s kind of nice, but let’s
see what happens next. For the time being I am enjoying raising my daughter and
working at the school.”
“Don’t your parents
mind? I mean you have been staying with them for two years? Don’t they urge you
to go back to Rajan?”
“They are my parents,
they understand that I need time to forget and move on.”
“You are lucky,” said
Chitra, with a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“What do you mean?”
asked Meera.
“I mean not all parents
are ready to let their married daughter stay in their home,” she gulped down
her scotch.
Sunaina and Mehr shared
looks. Was it possible their guarded friend was finally easing up… letting them
inside her mind? Mehr decided to take a chance.
“Is everything alright
with you?” she asked Chitra.
“Oh yes! It has never
been better,” Chitra answered in her trademark style, but with a wide smile on
her face. They all looked at their usually silent unexpressive friend who at
the moment was nothing short of beaming.
“Why are you all
looking at me like that?”
“Nothing… nothing.”
An awkward silence
descended on the group… broken by Chitra who began narrating her monologue in
an even and unemotional voice.
“Tanay used to hit me…
a lot. All the times when I pretended to be clumsy, or say that I had a nasty fall
down the stairs or I just slipped in the bathroom, it was because he was angry with
me; because of something I did or didn’t do. The hitting was his preferred way
of showing displeasure,” she took another sip of her drink.
The friends, who were
aware of Tanay’s temper tantrums, had no idea the situation was so bad. Chitra
has always portrayed a rosy picture of her family… a loving husband, adorable
daughter – a picture perfect family indeed. The cracks were there for everyone
to see, but none of them ever questioned her respecting her privacy. The few
times they did ask, they had been rebuked by Chitra who insisted that
everything was as it should be. This was the first time she was sharing about
her personal life, in so much detail, in an explicit manner, and none of the
friends wanted to disrupt her stream of consciousness.
“Recently, there were
some problems at his work so he was generally in a foul mood. The monster that
was reserved for my nights was rearing its ugly head in my daughter’s
nightmares too. From a loving and caring father, he was turning into something
else, a strict disciplinarian if you can say that. He used to get upset with
every little thing that was out of place; if Suhana would make some noise, he
would yell at her; if she asked him something, he would just storm out. He said
that he had a lot of thing on his mind. Like, we don’t. Anyway, he never hit
her… no, that ‘privilege’ was reserved only for me. So, even when Suhana made
him angry with her questions or actions or whatever; it took almost nothing for
his temper to flare that days, it was my fault and I had to bear the brunt of
it,” she smiled sarcastically.
She looked in the
distance without seeing anything as if looking in her past, seeing her little girl’s
scared face with tears streaming down her face as her father towered over her
tiny frame, yelling at her for sitting on his lap when he had just arrived from
work.
“I could see she was
scared of him. Then, one day, she accidently broke a picture frame that one of his
friends had got from Paris. All of us knew he really loved it. So when it
broke, my daughter’s heart broke with it. Looking at the shattered pieces on
the floor my poor daughter was scared to death. She was shaking and crying
bitterly. I tried to soothe her but to no avail. Then, suddenly, she looked up
at me and whispered, ‘Will papa hit me too now?’”
A lone tear dropped
from her long eyelashes into her scotch glass. Nobody said anything.
Chitra wiped her eyes
and spoke again, “That ‘too’ made me realize that what I thought was happening
behind closed bedroom doors was ingrained in my little girl’s mind. She was
deathly scared of her own father. It made me realize for whom I was tolerating
all of this for… the beatings, the humiliation? What kind of image of a woman,
a wife I am portraying to my daughter… that of a victim? Of a weak woman who can’t
even stand up for herself? Of someone who should bear the torture of her
husband, however, unreasonable? My daughter had started to think it was okay
for her father to hit me, to hit her? She will grow up one day and God forbid,
she is in an abusive relationship, she would think it is alright? That’s how it
is supposed to happen? So, instead of my reasoning that by tolerating all this
I am providing her with a nurturing and loving environment; my staying in this
abusive marriage was doing her more harm than good. That ‘too’ made me realize
that enough is enough.”
“So, you left him?!”
Meera inquired.
“No, we are still
together.”
“How…?”
“The next day, we were
sitting together watching TV, him and me. He was drinking and he needed
peanuts, so I gave it to him. They were roasted and he wanted salted… So, he
slapped me. As I lay there on the floor in a disheveled heap while he kicked
me, I could see myself from my baby’s eyes. I could hear Suhana’s voice playing
in my ear like a loop – will he hit me too now, will he hit me too now? I don’t
know something snapped inside of me. I just got up and slapped him right back,
with everything I had, really hard, right across the face. He stumbled and fell
on the couch. I still remember him looking up at me as if he had seen a ghost.
We kept staring at each other for a long time and then he just got up and went
inside the bedroom, without saying a word. I think he could see the hatred on
my face, the determination that I wouldn’t tolerate it anymore.”
She smiled, thinking
about the memory - the bewildered look on her husband’s face.
“So, the abuse has
stopped?”
“Kind of. This happened
couple of months back. He hasn’t hit me since then. He does get angry now and
then and I know it’ll take time. He can’t go from 80 to 0. He has finally
agreed to join anger management classes, so that’s another positive step in the
right direction.”
“So, it just stopped?
You hit him and it just stopped?” Sunaina was confused.
“The next day, we had a
long talk… actually a couple of long talks. I told him about what his daughter
thinks of him, what I think of him… How I feel when he insults me for every
little thing; hits me because of a bowl of peanuts. I showed him the marks, the
welts, the bruises on my body. He looked grief stricken, ashamed. He couldn’t
even look me in the eye. Even though, he promised not to lay hands on me again,
but you can imagine a man like him, prone to severe temper, being hit by a
woman, who according to him should be a weak submissive creature. He bruised my
body but I bruised his ego. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I moved out
for a couple of weeks and stayed at a hotel. But, he came around. I think he
missed Suhana more than he missed me, but that’s fine.”
“Are you sure he can be
trusted? Are you scared?”
“I don’t know, but, I
am not scared anymore. He knows if I can hit him once, I can do it again. Maybe
it was just me standing up to him, challenging him… that was what was needed.”
She nodded.
“But, why didn’t you go
to your parents. Why in a hotel?” Meera asked innocently.
“Because everyone’s
parents are not as understanding, as welcoming as yours Meera. My mother knew
about the abuse for a long time. You know what she told me? That I should
adjust; I should not make him angry; that it was my fault that my husband had
to resort to such means. Can you believe that?!”
She shook his head
angrily.
“And when I went to
them afterwards, she refused to let me stay. According to her, a husband’s
house is the wife’s house. When she realized what I had done, she was flabbergasted.
She was worried that Tanay would leave me. Apparently, in her eyes and mind,
there is nothing worse than a divorced woman, not even a physically abused and
mentally tortured one.”
Chitra laughed a hollow
laugh.
“Why didn’t you tell this
to any of us?” Sunaina asked.
“I don’t know. I was
worried you might judge me? Me, the strong, independent editor of a leading
magazine, being kicked and punched at home. I was embarrassed. I am sorry.”
“You are strong and
independent. You have nothing to be ashamed off. You did a brave thing… for
yourself and for your daughter. We all are proud of you.”
Chitra smiled and
ordered for another drink.
Sunaina who was
listening the tales of both the women silently, decided to share her ordeal
with her friends too.
“Listening to your
stories, I am inspired to share mine as well,” she took a deep breath.
“What happened to you?”
She closed her eyes and
mumbled, “The swinger couple I told you about last year, that was me.”
“WHAT?!”
“OH MY GOD!”
“How could you?!”
She opened her eyes and
looked at her friend’s faces – replete with shock, sympathy, and a little bit of
disgust.
“That’s why I didn’t
want to tell you. You guys can be so judgmental!” She went silent.
The three friends
looked at each other and were a little ashamed and horrified when they saw the
expressions on each one’s faces mirroring the other.
After a pregnant pause,
Meera spoke up, “We are sorry. We are not judging you, we are just concerned.
Are you alright?”
“Now I am. But I was
not for a very long time. The whole experience and then keeping it a secret was
taking a toll on my mental faculties. I dreaded weekends. I hated seeing Amar
going into a room with someone else’s wife; I shuddered at the touch of an unknown
man removing my clothes. It was all horrible.”
She shuddered again.
“Then why did you do
it?”
“For my family? For our
children? Amar is a wonderful father… I didn’t want to take their father away
from my children,” she said sobbing silently.
“So, you still go?”
“No. And Amar and I
have been separated for six months.”
“What about the kids
now?”
“They are too young to
understand anything. I don’t want them to hate either of their parents. They
still meet him on alternate weekends. They just know that mom and dad do not
get along anymore. I suspect they believe that it is a temporary thing and one
day we all will be together, like old days.”
“Is it?”
“I doubt it. I mean how
can you get over something like this? How can you erase these kinds of memories?”
“How did all start?
Tell us everything.”
“It started around two
years back. He asked me to go to one of these parties just for fun… to see what
goes on behind closed doors. Then from a monthly, it became a fortnightly an
then a weekly affair. At first, we just used to go and make conversation and
talk… like any other party. But, then the expectations started. People wanted
us to participate. He wanted us to participate and –“
She drank from her drink.
“I did… for him, for
our marriage. To add some spice to our boring sex life,” she smiled
sarcastically.
“I never enjoyed it
though. The idea of casual sex never appealed to me. To each his own, I guess.”
“Then why did you go?
Why you just didn’t stop?”
“Because he was a
wonderful father, a caring husband. Or I thought so, then. I didn’t want to
break our family. I just thought it was a weekly chore that I have to
accomplish. I never used to think, I never allowed myself to feel anything.
Until, I found out I was pregnant.”
Silent tears made their
way down her face.
“And I didn’t know
whose baby it was,” the lively giggling Sunaina broke down in front of her
friends. Chitra and Mehr immediately got up and hugged her. Meera held her hand
and offered her a glass of water. Sunaina drank the whole glass in one go.
Chitra wiped her tears. Mehr stroked her back.
“I am fine. I am fine.”
“When I told Amar that
I was pregnant, he was as shocked as me. It suddenly became my fault… for not insisting
on protection, for not taking pills. He asked me to abort it. When I refused,
we got into this huge ugly fight. The worst we ever had. And he said something
that jolted me. He said, “if they can abort my baby what is the problem with
you?’ And I was stunned. What kind of a marriage is this where the husband is
impregnating other women and the wife doesn’t even know whose child is she
carrying? I was disgusted with myself, with him. Is this the relation I was
trying so hard to protect; the marriage for which I was tolerating everything? And
was it worth it? What will I tell my children that I don’t know who the father
of their step-brother/sister was? Because Amar had outright refused to give the
baby his name.”
“Then…?”
“So, I walked out... From
his house, his life. I went to my parents who thankfully were more accepting
than Chitra’s. It took a lot of courage but after a few weeks when they
realized that I was not going back, I told my mom everything. As expected, she
was scandalized. My father, on the other hand, was really supportive,
surprisingly. He told me I could live with them for as long as I wanted.”
She smiled, with tears still
clinging to her eyelashes.
“It’s been six months
and I haven’t spoken-spoken to him. I don’t even know if he still goes there or
someplace else to spice up his sex life. We talk about the kids’ schedule;
about the pick-up and drop time; about the weather but I guess he suspects; and
I surely know that this is as far as it will go. There is no chance of reconciliation…
not for the kids, not for the family.”
Sunaina took a deep
breath before continuing, “There are some times when you have to put your
self-respect, your happiness first and this is one of those time. I am a mother
and I love my children but I am a woman first and I just can’t forgive him for
what he made me go through.”
“What about the baby?”
“It was a false
positive. When I went to the doctor, he confirmed that it’s a false pregnancy.”
The three women looked
at Sunaina with admiration. No one said anything, no words were uttered. They silently
held hands to let each other know that they were together.
“Let’s make a pact to
tell each other everything from now on. No more secrets, no more suffering
silently. We have to be each other’s strength,” Meera said.
“No more judging,”
added Sunaina.
All of them nodded.
“Well, in that case, I
have to tell you guys something too,” Mehr began.
“What?! Not you too.
Ranvir is such a nice guy.”
“Yeah, he is. Uhmm… I
can’t get pregnant,” Mehr looked at her empty plate.
“Oh but we thought that
Ranvir didn’t want children.”
“That’s what everyone
thinks and that’s what makes him so great. When he found out that I can’t
conceive, he told everyone – his family, my family, our respective friends –
that he doesn’t want kids. So, I could be saved from everyone’s taunts and
scrutiny… at least for a while. It was his way of protecting me I guess,” Mehr
shrugged.
“That’s… nice,” Meera
said.
“Yeah… So, what I
wanted to tell you is that we are planning to adopt!”
“Oh my God, really?
That’s great!” Chitra gave Mehr a side ward hug.
“I know… we have
submitted all the documents and have had one round of interviews, some
formalities are still pending after which we will be able to bring a baby
home.”
“Your families okay
with this decision?”
“At first they weren’t.
There were talks about family tree and genetics. Her mother cried that who will
take the family name forward. There were lots of tears, lots of arguments but
he handled everything. And they have agreed, not completely, but I am sure one
look at an innocent smiling baby and they’ll get there.”
“So you are getting a
girl or a boy?”
“I want a boy, he wants
a girl… we might have to adopt both if we don’t settle on one soon.”
The women laughed
together, enjoying the rest of the meal in their shared knowledge that whatever
life throws at them – the good, the bad, or the ugly – they had the power in
them to handle it, to make it right.
Wow! I loved this one. Nothing feels better than sharing your heart out with your girl gang.
ReplyDeleteThat was a happy ending for them all. Unfortunately, this is what happens behind closed doors most of the time.
ReplyDeleteThis is my conscious effort to give all the women a happy ending. You can say it's kind of wishful thinking for a society where most of the people (men and women) believe there is no such thing as marital rape; where a divorced or a separated woman (even a man but less so) is always looked at with suspicion and judgement; where women are told to deal with physical abuse and get accustomed to mental torture for the sake of their children and families; where adoption is not an option. I wish more women had the courage to do what Meera, Chitra and Sunaina did... I wish we, as a society, are more accepting and tolerant of those who take a stand.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading :)