Shivani-The Unsung Heroine

 

There was a little girl who was born in a tiny village in India … an eldest child in a family of five. She was lovingly named Shivani by her doting father in memory of his own grandmother.

Life wasn’t all that bad when it began. Initially they were just two siblings and the family was well-to-do. Shivani hardly knew the trials and tribulations of life. She was happy dancing to the songs from the movies of her favorite hero and fighting with her brother over trivialities.

‘Shivani! You are a girl and should do more household work,’ her mother would scold.

And so Shivani did little chores, all the while thinking of the games she would play with her friends.

‘This girl will be the death of me!’ her mother Lakshmi would grumble when Shivani would skip off to play leaving her chores half finished.

And then were born two more siblings. Shivani was happy. But her play time became lesser and lesser. She had to help her mother with all the household chores and babysit her little siblings. Longingly she would watch her brother and friends play. But if she did not help her mother, she would be all alone. Moreover, she would thrash her in frustration.

Her little perfect world began to see the first signs of dark clouds when she silently witnessed the raging fights between her parents. She thought it would all be fine as time went by, but a child’s mind is far removed from reality and burdens of a man-woman bond.

‘Why do you think they are fighting Raj?’ she asked her oldest brother who was very sensitive and cry each time her parents fought.

‘Don’t know! They won’t leave each other, will they?’ he would ask her looking scared

‘Nah! Papa loves Ma. And even more so, he loves us! We will always be a happy family,’ Shivani comforted her brother.

Reality struck, when her father, Rajan, moved out of the house. Her mother was devastated. Shivani could not grasp that her hero, her perfect father did not want to be with her or her mother or brother. She could not face the reality no matter how hard she tried.

Never one to accept defeat, she relentlessly tried to reach her father, in an age when there was no phones or evolved communication channels. She did not even know where he lived.

With an iron determination she kept up the search and finally reached her father. What followed was a small patch of relief in her dark life. Her errant father returned home. A few years of uneasy calm prevailed at home accompanied by the birth of one more sibling.

In Shivani’s view all was well and her world was even better than what it was as she had one more baby brother to dote on.

She was 15 now and she was enjoying her first taste of youth. Being the only daughter, her father adored her. Life was once again on the way to being perfect.

‘Ma and Papa and all my siblings will always be together’ she would say happily.

But again tragedy struck. Rajan was a man who loved himself and his indulgences more than the family. Broken bonds that never really had roots do not make for a happy home. This time when he left home, he did not plan to return.

‘Don’t go Papa. I promise to be a good girl and take care of you. my little brothers and Ma,’ she pleaded with her father when he gently told her about his decision.

Rajan patted her cheeks and said ‘I will be there whenever you need me most in your life.’

‘But I want you to live with me everyday’ she wanted to say, but her words were lost in muffled sobs as her father walked away after gently disengaging his hands from her clutch.

Rajan remarried illegally and had another family to support and hence sent little or no money to them. In those days when divorce was not common, Shivani’s parents never got divorced legally. So, in essence Shivani’s mother remained legally married. So, Lakshmi could never take the legal channel to demand money from her husband. Rajan took advantage of this and sent home some money only occasionally.

Hence began a harsh life filled with misery, poverty and untold struggles for the family, especially for Shivani, being the eldest

When her mother went out to work, Shivani cooked and cleaned and took care of her younger brothers, the youngest of whom was all of 3.

When the food fell short, she ate less to ensure her brothers had enough. When their mother raged and ranted against her fate and wanted to direct some of her frustrations on her children, Shivani took it all calmly, shielding the younger ones and understanding her mother’s agony.

When her Mother’s income was not enough to supplement the meagre family income, she took up odd jobs to supplement the income.

Being a girl and that too a beautiful one brought its share of troubles for Shivani. She had to fight lewd men and gestures, as she tried to earn a dignified living in a man’s world using her limited education.

Between all these ordeals, Shivani found one friend, confidante and solace…Lord Krishna, for whom she formed a fanatical devotion.

Grief or joy, defeat or success … she directed it all to Krishna. People who knew Shivani would always hear her famous words ‘Krishna will take care’, no matter what the issue was. Perhaps her unwavering faith in Krishna made her one of the most cheerful and lively persons one would ever have the fortune to meet.

‘No problem is too big,’ she would advice people who sought her calm counsel for their issues.

‘This too shall pass,’ she would tell friends who were in difficulty.

‘Nothing is forever,’ she would reason whenever she herself found life almost impossible to deal with.

She would always have a sunny smile for the world. Her beautiful voice could be heard from the kitchen or anywhere at home as she hummed her way through work. She would rile her younger siblings with pranks and have enough commotion at home to bring down the roof. There was never ever a dull moment if Shivani was around.

But in a way this was just a façade. Deep within the burden of life weighed on her. At 23, Shivani was already soul weary. She had given up hope of ever finding happiness in her life. She could not even afford to dream of her knight in shining armor.

 ‘Who will marry me? A poor girl from a broken home? I am not even so educated,’ she would despair. Just as the thought came she would turn to her Lord Krishna and say ‘Krishna, please take care’.

No one could be sure if it was her Krishna at work, but her Knight in shining armor did arrive or so she thought. A prosperous family from a neighboring village sent a proposal for Shivani through a marriage broker for their son Sriram, who was working in a renowned organization in Mumbai.

Her mother, Lakshmi was ecstatic about the proposal. For a poor girl with no prospects the offer of marriage from a rich family was nothing short of a jackpot in those days.

Lakshmi refused to investigate further when relatives urged her to do a background check on the groom and his family. ‘I don’t want to ruin this. My parents investigated about my groom and his family. Look where I am today. No one can change fate. If Shivani is destined to be happy she will be,’ she said stoically.

The runaway father was informed about the marriage and asked to come and perform his duties and show a united front to the groom’s family, who were unaware of all the details of Shivani’s parents’ relationship.

Whatever be his flaws, Rajan’s love for Shivani was genuine. He wanted to be there for his angel, the only good part of the marriage he loathed.

And true enough, Rajan used his limited sources to rustle up a moderately fancy wedding for his dear daughter.

As Shivani bid adieu to Tamil Nadu and headed towards Mumbai with her husband, Sriram, she had stars in her eyes and a thousand dreams fluttering in her heart.

The quality of dreams is such that it always promises an oasis when it is probably nothing but a mirage.

The first few months of marriage were happy. Shivani was thrilled with the new city. Her husband doted on her and showered her with his attention and love. Shivani was again beginning to believe in love and life and happily everafter.

But that was only for the first few months. Slowly she discovered another side to Sriram. He would fly into an unreasonable rage for a very trivial reasons. He would become violent and abusive which even extended to beating. However, with equal speed he would cool down and go on his knees to beg for her forgiveness.

He would taunt her about her poverty and family background, which he had learned in detail from a gossip loving relative. But he would also feel remorse and beg her to forgive him the very next day.

Shivani was confused with his erratic behavior and had no clue how to handle him. One day he confessed he had mental breakdown before their marriage. His condition was a direct result of a turbulent childhood where his parents had fought almost every day. Growing up in the constant tussle, he had developed the nervous disorder which had ultimately led to his collapse from which he had only recently recovered.

Shivani did not know anyone in the strange new city with whom she could discuss her anguish or her puzzlement over her husband. The few kind neighbors she knew spoke Hindi or Marathi and she could not speak the language.

She felt, lost, lonely, scared and utterly miserable. She woke up to each new day not knowing what to expect from her husband. She was always at the mercy of his moods and the events in his official life. Going back home was not an option when she learned about her first pregnancy. Moreover, she did not want the social stigma which would surely follow and impact her mother and brothers. So, she continued to live her miserable life and the saving grace was the birth of her first son. Through the pregnancy and after her son was born, Sriram treated her with love and tenderness. But it was a short lived respite. Gradually his behavior returned to his old one, once again making life hell for Shivani.

…But this was Shivani, someone whose strength came from within and her undaunted faith in Krishna. She was someone who could turn her grief into someone else’s happiness.

She put all her energy into befriending the poor and the needy. There wasn’t a single vegetable vendor or flower seller in the little vegetable market who did not know ‘Shiva Ma’ as they called her.

Be it giving an old sari or saving on her expenses to give a small loan or buying the last sack of potatoes from a vendor so that he could go home in peace, she would do whatever she could for them. With her broken Hindi she had befriended the small little market she visited.

The same spirit of love and giving extended to her home and neighborhood.

Her maids were greeted with hot food and tea the moment they entered work.

Be it caring for sick neighbors or helping them with their chores, Shivani was the one they all relied on.

She had three beautiful children whom she showered her love on. She brought them up with deep values.

Saving every little penny she could, she also helped to educate her brothers and give them direction in their lives till they were married and settled.

This was the Shivani the world knew. Deep in her heart she was still the little girl her father had abandoned and the young woman who nursed broken dreams.

Unknown to the world, but silently spied on by her children, she shed the tears in front of her Krishna. ‘I live for the world, but I don’t have the zest to live,’ she would cry.

But like almost every Indian woman she endured the burden of her marriage as well as she could…

20 years flew past. Shivani was now a grandmother.

 Her children hold successful jobs in some of the most renowned companies of India and abroad, globetrotting most of the time. But no matter who came into their lives, their Mother came first in love and respect. This love was amply reflected by the grandchildren and spouses.

 Her errant father had returned home and had atoned to her mother for all his sins at the entreaty of Shivani, when her mother fell ill. Of course, things were too far gone to be mended. But Shivani’s mother had the satisfaction of knowing that her husband had realized his mistakes and begged her forgiveness just before she died.

Rajan had passed away a few years later, a lonely man. But the ever loving and forgiving Shivani ensured that her brothers forgave him and performed his last rites with respect. She herself was the only child to visit him during his dying days because she did not want to hold grudges against a dying man. Moreover she had never stopped loving her father and neither had he.

Her brothers were well settled with children of their own. They worshipped their sister and to their children, Shivani was no less than God. Whatever decisions they made in their lives, their aunt had to be consulted, her consent had to be obtained and her blessings had to be taken.

And Sriram…

Shivani’s story would be incomplete without him. He may not be the epitome of love and patience now. However, he had long ago realized the worth of his wife and how special she was.

A sworn atheist once, he slowly mellowed and believed in Shivani’s Krishna as life threw many challenges his way. He found inner peace through this, his children and Shivani’s patient love that endured despite his temperamental behavior.

The inner peace gradually cured his disease though he still erupted occasionally. But he seldom directed his anger at his wife or children. Instead, he took it out on objects. A small improvement.

And today if anyone asks whom Sriram would lay down his life for … it would surely be his wife…

Because love conquers all…though it may not be the fairy tale one wants it to be….

And people like Shivani are the unsung heroines ... Their strength comes from their unshakeable faith in human goodness.