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A heartwarming personal story of the author's aunt who remarried in her 50s, after being a divorcee for more than quarter of a century
A heartwarming personal story of the author’s aunt who remarried in her 50s, after being a divorcee for more than quarter of a century.
It was an ordinary afternoon when I received a phone call from my mother. She was excited while talking and I couldn’t understand anything at first. After calming her down, I got the following news:
Sita aunty had got married last week at a registrar office!
My Amma said that her marriage was the recent news in my native place, and everyone was surprised and shocked.
OK, so Sita aunty, a distant relative of mine, is a 54 years old, divorced woman, and she had married a widower around 60 years old…
I phoned her immediately and conveyed my wishes. She spoke with me in detail about her marriage and was worried that her own sisters hated her as she had got married at this age. I told her that it was high time that she stopped thinking about others, and to enjoy her life.
After I disconnected the call, I was reminded of the struggles Sita aunty had faced in her life.
“You get out of my house immediately! I don’t want to see your face again!”
Shyam yelled at his wife Sita for ‘n’ th time and she started crying. Her mother in law as usual added fuel to fire by blaming Sita for her inability to conceive even after 5 years of marriage. Sita, as usual, kept quiet and pleaded with her husband not to send her out and requested him to forgive her (for no fault of hers).
When Sita was married in 1981, her mother advised her that she had to adjust in her husband’s family and she has to do whatever her husband says. Sita, being the eldest daughter with 2 younger sisters, couldn’t continue her studies after the 12th standard and was married to Shyam, who worked in a nationalized bank as a clerk.
Sita was quite happy in first year of her marriage. Shyam was kind earlier but after after a couple of years, started showing his true colours. He blamed her for whatever happened and started abusing her badly, both physically and emotionally. Her MIL also wasn’t happy due to the small amount of dowry provided by Sita’s father.
Sita bore everything patiently and believed that her husband would change soon. She didn’t want to add to her father’s burdens and hence she adjusted to everything.
Once, her husband was out of station for a week and her MIL had also gone to her native place. Sita was alone in her house without knowing that her life was going to change forever…
She got the shock of her life when she saw a woman who came to the house along with her husband and MIL after a week. Her husband introduced her as his newly wedded wife!
Sita was grief stricken and her husband told her that he hated her. He added that she could never be a wife to him and she could only be a servant maid in his house…
Sita was angry beyond words and she came to her father’s house after 6 years of a bad marriage, and filed for divorce. She took up a job and got her UG degree through distance education. She also studied Hindi and passed all exams. She loved studying and got many degrees. She started taking Hindi tuition and also became a teacher in a school in my native place. Her family totally depended on her and she took care of her 2 younger sisters well, and got them married.
After her divorce, there was a big change in her. She became strong and proved that she could handle all problems with ease. She was living alone for several years after death of her parents and finally she had married a gentleman who loves her truly.
I feel so happy for Sita aunty. She had faced a lot of stigma after her divorce. She was brave enough not to let that affect her, and had concentrated on her life and achieved her dreams.
Some people commented on her marriage at this age. I told them that it was none of their business and getting married is her personal decision. I feel that age doesn’t matter, isn’t it?
Sita aunty had faced many difficulties in life and I sincerely pray to God that she feels and stays happy in her future life.
Published here earlier.
Image source: pixabay
Who am I ???…
I am sensitive, possessive, honest, a bit selfish and I believe in others fully..But if they betray my trust, I would neither forgive nor forget the same..
I may be right read more...
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
Every daughter, no matter how old, yearns to come home to her parents' place - ‘Home’ to us is where we were brought up with great care till marriage served us an eviction notice.
Every year Dugga comes home with her children and stays with her parents for ten days. These ten days are filled with fun and festivity. On the tenth day, everyone gathers to feed her sweets and bids her a teary-eyed adieu. ‘Dugga’ is no one but our Goddess Durga whose annual trip to Earth is scheduled in Autumn. She might be a Goddess to all. But to us, she is the next-door girl who returns home to stay with her parents.
When I was a child, I would cry on the day of Dashami (immersion) and ask Ma, “Why can’t she come again?” My mother would always smile back.
I mouthed the same dialogue as a 23-year-old, who was home for Durga Puja. This time, my mother graced me with a reply. “Durga is fortunate to come home at least once. But many have never been home after marriage.”
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