When A Note Ends A Marriage

The pressure on young women to get married – never end a marriage – has dire consequences for some marriages, and lives.

Hailing from a country which heavily breathes on mostly one relationship between men and women, i.e. the fatal attraction, it is not uncommon to find parents searching for an appropriate life partner for their daughter. The times have still not changed in most parts of India, where, as a girl turns 18-23, the pressure gets more and more intense for her to be wed.

No doubt, the metros see a sea change with increasing number of live-in relationships but it’s a fact that this number is not huge. Many a girl is raised with the thought that she have to beautify someone else’s life, primarily her future husband’s. How often are parents seen teaching their girls about their own happiness, about their own peace, let alone the comfort of having sex as per their wishes and agreement?

Once happily wed, what is the proportion of ‘happily ever after’? How happy a girl now the daughter-in-law is, is measured by her husband’s love for her, the degree of comfort she finds in her new home. But, it is not hard to find as well as not much easier to believe, that a girl raised to be a future daughter-in-law can have her own personality.

How often does she feels betrayed by just the upbringing, the norms of society, the laws of the world, God’s categorization of man and woman….but whom can she question? One day, she just quits or exits the worldly affairs with a note full of questions and the ink reeks of the stench of the life she lived!

Just a note

Do I belong in your arms

Or in the solace of my being?

Hard to answer

Easy at first it may seem.

Outside the window

the trees stand naked

I wonder if they knew

the green is going to betray them?

Life’s a jungle

Dense, dark and cold

You don’t stand unique

For life to rain dark clouds on.

I wonder every now and then,

If I ask a valid question?

Harsh to predict

How innocuous that may look,

In the lines of her hand

She scratches a name

I wonder if she knew

If the henna colours-on or the future bleeds?

Where do I belong?

Immaterial, trivial, senseless-

A question it may seem

To a whole lot,

‘Cos they often think

Etched in the numerous moments

Your name and my being

Aren’t they one?

Endless trials to find

The answer

Yet standing empty-handed

With a heart hollow of love

I decide to take matters

In my custody and

I quit!

Pic credit: BD (Used under a Creative Commons license)

Originally published at the author’s blog.