Everything For Him - Part 2

Sandhya and I reached the apartment and we stepped down after parking the car in the block allocated to my flat. As we were making our way towards the elevator I saw more than a dozen women on their knees engrossed in making beautiful Rangoli patterns on the pebbled floor. The one which I liked was the pair of peacock's as it had my favorite colors of violet, purple and blue.

Outside the youngsters were making a rally on their bikes whistling and shouting Happy New Year all their way and in a matter of minutes fireworks began as the clock struck twelve. It was a spectacular sight.

We reached the elevator and opened it. I listened to a woman's voice shouting my name, requesting us to wait. She was none other than my neighbour Sarla aunty who lives on the same floor of mine. I kept the door open until she entered and tapped on the button five and closed the door.

'Happy New Year Aunty!' I wished her.

'Happy New Year!' Sarla aunty replied with a disgusting expression on her face. 

I thought maybe it was because of the manner in which I am dressed. It was then I realized that the smell of the beer from my breath was very strong. 

Sandhya placed her index finger on her lips, gesturing for me to remain silent. I only drink wine and beer occasionally only on parties like these and whenever I consume I will ensure to cleanse my mouth with a mouth freshener and today I forgot about it. 

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor. Sarla aunty opened the door and rushed out as if a beast was following her. 

The Indian society doesn't encourage women to go out for late night parties, wear short dresses and drink alcohol. If you do, then guess what, you will be ostracized. Just a week ago, while I was walking down the parking lot towards my vehicle, I heard a woman saying - "Look at Ananya how she is dressed. Women like these are spoiling our culture." Almost everyone has an opinion on a woman's appearance. They judge the woman's skirt, the tightness of her cleavage, the height of her heels to the colour of her lipstick.

Sandhya and I stepped down and strode towards my flat. I opened the lock and hit the lights.

'Ananya, I saw the guy you were talking to in the pub! He was good-looking. Why don't you take the chance?'

'What do you mean by taking the chance? Do you think I am a slut?' I somewhat replied in a stern tone.

'Did I say that? I was just kidding. But, tell me one thing. For how long will you stay alone?'

'As long as I am alive,' My voice cracked. I leaned back on my couch and forced a lump down my throat. The divorce was long over, but the pain still woke me up some nights, dragged me out of my sleep, and hit me over my heart like a twenty-pound sledgehammer.

'You're still thinking about Raghav? You have to stop beating yourself up about it.' Sandhya said. 'You must forget him and move on. It may not change the past but it gives the future a chance.'

'Asking someone to forget is easy to say. Had you been in my position you would have understood my pains,' tears welled up in my eyes.

'Why do you still love Raghav? Had he cared anytime about you? Look Ananya, you have been punishing yourself for ten years. If at least you don't change now, I can't help you anymore. Please try to understand,' She stood up and walked towards the door. 'I am leaving now. My husband would be waiting for me at home. Happy New Year!'

'Happy New Year Sandhya!'

I was twenty-five when I got married. It was an arranged marriage fixed by my parents. My marriage to Raghav was a fairytale, at least it was to me. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't entirely perfect, but we had far more amazing days than good days, more good days than average days, and hardly any bad days. 

Raghav was everything I ever wanted in a man. He was attentive and caring, thoughtful and compassionate, and he always remembered the little things that made me happy: Hot coffee on the rainy days I spent typing away in our home office, long trips, surprise plans for birthday and anniversaries and endless biryani and chocolates whenever it was my time of the month. 

Every time he came home from work, he brought me a jasmine bunch to put on the back of my hair and kissed me as if his life depended on it. I honestly thought our love would transcend time, that I was one of the lucky ones who would be able to truly uphold the "until death tears us apart" mantra.

Six months after my marriage, we went on a trip to Nagarjuna Sagar. Raghav was driving at a speed of more than a hundred kilometers per hour on the national highway. In an attempt to overtake a big container truck he lost the control and hit the divider. Our car spinned and fell on the other side of the road. The local villagers admitted us into a nearby government hospital.

When I woke up I happened to see myself inside the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital. The anesthesia was still lingering inside my body and everything around looked blurry and I couldn't learn what happened to me. Minutes later the doctor came and administered a few antibiotic injections. As the drowsiness completely lifted off I first asked for Raghav. He was waiting outside the room. The nurse called him inside and he walked in with a bandage wrapped around his head. Luckily he didn't suffer much injuries.

As he came I tried getting up but I couldn't. I could feel the pain below my stomach. Nurse cautioned me not to get up. I was dressed in a green nursing gown. I put my hand over my stomach and I could feel the cotton bandage lump. I asked the nurse about it. To this day, I still can't forget the words that she spoke.

'Madam, I am so sorry to tell you. The glass pieces of the windshield penetrated into your stomach and caused an internal hemorrhage. The blood clotted inside and it even contaminated your reproductive system. The doctor has performed the surgery and removed the clot. And…' she stopped midway.

'What happened?'

The expression on her face changed immediately. 'Madam, you can never become a mother!'

It was a devastating moment. We dreamed of starting a family soon but all our dreams have capsized and my life has never been the same like it used to be before. By no means life has been on a smooth sail since that day as Raghav lost his job, my father-in-law suffered a heart stroke and my parents died in a road accident while they were on their way to Tirupati. One accident destroyed my dreams. It deprived me and my husband to start a family and another accident killed my parents. 

Seeing all those mishaps happening one after another in a series Raghav's mother consulted an astrologer who informed her that there are certain flaws in my birth chart due to which I keep attracting misfortunes not only for me but also to the people around. From that day on, she started blaming me for each and every wrong thing that happened. 

One day I was mopping the floor. My mother in law sat on the sofa and I told her not to walk until it became dry. Her mobile started ringing and she got down from the sofa. The floor was still wet and as a result she fell down and broke her leg. She held me responsible for it and from that day onwards she started treating me as if I am a magnet of evil. She started calling me with all kinds of names used in Telugu language which are used to describe evil and demons. I lost the count of how many times I had to close myself in the bathroom and cry for hours and hours. 

To add fuel to the fire, somewhere between the third and fourth year of my marriage, Raghav began to change. He started avoiding me. He started coming home late. He didn't leave his cell phone out like he normally did; he was extremely protective of it and often took calls in another room. He was more elusive, vague, and anytime I said that I needed to run to the store, he would jump up and volunteer to do it for me.

At first, I thought like maybe the late nights had got something to do with his new job. It wasn't until one fine day in the month of October, 2009, he asked for a divorce. I am sure, this thought might be injected into him by his mother. It took me several minutes to absorb what he was trying to imply.

When I pressed him for the reason, he told me that he found someone better than me. She was none other than his colleague Rashmita who is five years younger to him. The picture became clearer. He has been dating her all those days and that's why he showed up late at night.

Rashmita's vivacious personality could force the most sullen person to smile. Her long black silky hair and naturally toned body could rival any man.

Reluctantly I signed on the divorce papers and in return I received a small double bedroom flat and a car as alimony to financially support myself. 

After my divorce, I wasn't sure what to do with my life. Everything I'd ever known, everything I ever was, was all entwined with Raghav. He was a huge part of me, an engrained piece of my identity, and I didn't know who the hell I was without him and I didn't know who the hell I was without him.

I wanted to do the whole Eat, Pray, Love thing—you know, travel the world and try to find myself while tasting new foods. But, I was in serious debt.

So, instead, I opted for long walks that usually ended until my legs ached. No matter how hard I tried pretending to be "fine," there was always something that triggered a miserable memory of my failed marriage. 

Everytime I see a couple holding hands or just sitting plainly together I turn my eyes away from them. It's not that I hate seeing the lovers but because it reminds me of a question nobody can answer - "Why am I not eligible for that happiness?"

I tried reading books about divorcees who overcame their pain, hoping to feel inspired or enlightened, but they only made me more depressed. 

After months and months of non-stop bawling, I decided to get back into a job. I'd had numerous job interviews, but very few call-backs. After realizing that my options were limited owing to a large gap in my professional career, I reluctantly took a mid-level marketing job at ASM Industries, a huge downgrade, and pay-cut from my previous position.

I told myself that less money wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was a new thing and I needed to do more new things in order to truly move on.

Whatever it may be, if there is anyone to be blamed for my misfortune it is none other than God. I lost my complete faith in him. First, he deprived me of becoming a mother, then he took away my parents and then the divorce with Raghav.

As of now, I am happy and content with my single life. Yet somewhere deep down in my heart, loneliness pained me. 

Society, after a point of time, just cannot stand single women. By single I mean unmarried, divorced and widowed. One is constantly humiliated and put down both by men and women. 

When women, who do not have an identity themselves, and achieve success only by virtue of having a successful, rich and resourceful husband, question your character and comment on it, well, that just breaks me. This is indeed something I am struggling with.

And when it comes to men, I feel as if all they think of is opportunity! A single, divorced woman is no more than an opportunity, these are men who just cannot think of a woman as anything more than her body. After all it's a man's world! Women cannot exist without a man, and if you are single then either you are 'available' or else a 'slut!' As if there is nothing in between – single women not depending on men, and not seeking favours do not exist.

If anyone would ask me what is the most terrible poverty in this world. My answer would be loneliness. Sometimes I just want to disappear and see if anyone would miss me.

To be continued...