(Names changed to protect identities)
My dear Romi and Rahul
Maybe I write this piece of communication too late in the day, but it’s necessary that you know the truth about my marriage with your father.
A woman’s primary job is to rear a family, my parents always said, and I believed it. I happily fell in with an arranged match. It was a pleasant life, I was contented, we were well off, we lived in Mumbai. Life became rosier when I found I was pregnant with you, Romi. You were born a year and a half into the marriage.
Then we planned our second child; we knew it was a son. It was not a difficult pregnancy. So it was a real shock when almost at full term, I had a horrifying miscarriage. We lost your brother. We were both shell-shocked. Things perhaps began sliding downhill then. We lost connect, maybe, and even in the bedroom, spoke only of the mishap.
Then we did a few random things like moving to Delhi and then moving back to Mumbai when he thought he had better prospects here. Romi and I were just settling into school, when your father suggested having another kid.
I had started enjoying my new routine, my single child situation, and, frankly, even my post-delivery slimness. But conditioning kicked in and I fell in with his suggestion. I ignored the fact that I now wanted different things, and that I had a right to want those different things. My body – his decision. That’s a bad equation.
Anyway, we had you, Rahul, and it was awesome of course. I loved you both, loved caring for you. So immersed was I in playing mother, that I did not notice anything amiss.
To cut a long story short, your father began having an affair. Initially he lied and kept it a secret. Then he got brazen. Do you remember how we once met that woman at the mall? He even introduced us!
When I had gathered sufficient proof of his infidelity, I confronted him. He called me crazy, sent me to a psychiatrist and told everyone I was on medication. How cruel he was! He even convinced you both of my mental disorders. Everyone, even my family, believed him. Then there was the divorce.
We had already separated, and I was struggling with four jobs to make ends meet. He and that woman were together, as you know. That’s when they insinuated a fear of poverty in Romi’s mind, telling her she would live from hand to mouth if she lived with me. You were a child, impressionable; you chose to live with him. They seduced you, my children, with good food and clothes. Romi was made to write nasty things about me, which was presented to the court.
I let you both remain with him because I could not afford to care for you and he could. But he did not honour his side of the bargain. During the visitation time awarded by the court, you simply would not turn up. You also did not spend any holidays with me. I kept in touch with your Dadaji so I could keep getting news of you both. I use our shared surname simply to remain connected with you.
Your father remarried within six months of the divorce. I had stopped trying to connect with you in order to safeguard you, because I do know Rahul that they beat you up when you tried to talk to me on the phone. I am now all right, not being in touch with you at all. And yes, people have called me stone-hearted – I bore that and moved on.
I know I haven’t healed. He should have given me the time and space and dignity to deal with this. More importantly, he should not have turned you both against me.
I was dumb, unaware of my legal rights, of the idea of having financial independence. If I had, I would have educated you appropriately. I am truly scared for Romi. Believe me when I say that if you remain unaware of your right as a woman, you can’t survive.
This story also comes anonymously, so that you are not embarrassed or disturbed. You are adults now. I hope you can leave this behind to become happy and successful individuals.
(As told to Madhuri Maitra)