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Why should I be expected to display my grief, or behave as if my life is over just because I am a widow? I want to live life.
There I have said it, I am a widow but I still want to live!
I recently lost my husband; or I should say I lost my best friend of 14 years! I lost my partner, my lover, my boy friend, my room mate, my son’s father, my husband! He was alive one night and the next morning he was gone. He passed away in his sleep due to a massive heart attack.
My life was shattered. I wanted to die, I really wanted to die, but I didn’t. Because I still want to live. Is that a crime?
The situation of widows has improved drastically in our society and yet some unseen shackles remain. I am not expected to wear white or cut off all my hair. But I am frowned upon when I wear western clothes, or because I have streaked hair and multiple tattoos on my body.
One of my ‘friends’ said she was sure I would be soon getting married again because “looking” at me thats what she felt! Really? You can gauge my pain, understand my feelings by just looking at me?
I am being judged for deciding to look for a job and starting to work immediately and not agreeing to mope around at home. Is deciding to gift a secure and happy life to myself and my son a crime?
I am being told again and again that my son is now my reason to live! But isn’t my being alive reason enough for me to live? Why does being a wife, and then when that is taken away, being a mother all that defines a woman?
I know, the guy I fought for with my parents, whom I loved over everyone else is gone, but I am still here, living! Is it a crime if I choose not to bow down to sorrow and be distraught with pain?
If I had been a guy, the father to my son, would these people still say the same things? Would they expect me to then stop working and stay at home and take care of my child? Or would they hurry and try to find me a good “ayah” who would help take care of him while I keep earning? Then why is it a crime if I decide to do the same thing?
Is my sanity the yardstick of measuring how much I love my husband? People tell me to be strong and yet when I am strong I am judged for being hard hearted! My grief is not a public performance. What he meant to me is and will stay in my heart. Why do I need to “show” that I am sad?
I have always believed that when life does not give you reasons to smile- laugh! Everyone has their own ways of coping with pain, I choose to work. I choose to make plans for the future. I choose to travel with my son. I choose to try and be as much happy as I can be. Judge me all you want… I choose to live!
(I would like to add not everyone has been the same. I am thankful to my friends, family, and colleagues who have stood by me in my pain and helped me get back on my feet and face the world again. I wish there were more of you.)
Image source: pixabay
A voracious reader, a writer, a poet, a die-hard romantic, a dream enthusiast, a single mom. read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Women today don’t want to be in a partnership that complicates their lives further. They need an equal partner with whom they can figure out life as a team, playing by each other’s strengths.
We all are familiar with that one annoying aunty who is more interested in our marital status than in the dessert counter at a wedding. But these aunties have somehow become obsolete now. Now they are replaced by men we have in our lives. Friends, family, and even work colleagues. It’s the men who are worried about why we are not saying yes to one among their clans. What is wrong with us? Aren’t we scared of dying alone? Like them?
A recent interaction with a guy friend of mine turned sour when he lectured me about how I would regret not getting married at the right time. He lectured that every event in our lives needs to be completed within a certain timeframe set by society else we are doomed. I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed to realize that annoying aunties are rapidly doubling in our society. And they don’t just appear at weddings or family functions anymore. They are everywhere. They are the real pandemic.
Let’s examine this a little closer.
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