Right to be Happy!

Tall, fair, handsome and intelligent was how I described Sameer, my husband to all my friends and family. We got married, stayed with Sameer’s parents and had a beautiful life. We had a bunch of very good friends who we kept meeting every alternate weekend. Those friends were a very integral part of our lives. Going for drinks, dinner, for vacations were things we loved doing with them.

Sameer had to travel to Delhi for about a month. Sameer’s job included a lot of travelling in India. Though Delhi is a city where you get everything you require, Sameer’s mom and me were too worried because this was the longest trip.

A lifeless Sameer returned after 10 days, not listening to us, not seeing us, not reacting to anything we say. A bad and gloomy phase of my life had just begun.

I joined work post one month. I loved my work and that was the best way I could keep myself busy. I met fewer people, worked more, read more. I didn’t meet my friends either.

Though I knew except a few good friends at office, most people had started gossiping about me dating my boss. Initially it really hurt me but later I ignored those talks because arguing and explaining things to every person wasn’t possible.

On my birthday, my friends surprised me at my home and drove me to a nearby hill station. We were about 8 of us. There was loud music, there was fun and there was laughter. I missed Sameer, no one could replace him, but my friends were trying hard and somewhere I missed being with them.

That was the day I realized, I was still alive! The trip brought me back to life. I started smiling, I started going out. I hadn't changed, finally after 8 months, I was being myself – The Deepa who loved to laugh, who loved partying and who loved having people around her.

Sometime later, my brother was planning a get together for our old colony friends. I was excited to see all my childhood friends. I dressed up at my best, and was all set for the evening that came along. When I checked myself in the mirror, I knew I looked pretty but suddenly sadness gripped me. I missed Sameer’s naughty smile, I missed the way he said “You look Hot”. I was missing my husband. I walked out of the room with tearful eyes.

My in laws were not too happy seeing me. They suddenly snapped at me and said “Is it really important to attend this get-together”. I was taken aback with the behavior. A 28 year old woman basically knew what she was doing, I thought.

Their behavior looked different towards me since my birthday. The numerous calls when I am out, arguing with me if I was late irked me. But I thought they cared and were concerned.

 “You should not because you have lost your husband just about 8 months back”, my mother in law snapped.

“He was your son too; you seem to have moved on very soon Maa! Attending family weddings, attending kitties are signs of you moving ahead too, aren't they? And staying home or going out doesn't define how sad I am without my husband” I angrily snapped back!

There was silence and I realized I had hurt a mothers feelings. But I was not wrong either.  I left without waiting for a reply!

My brother picked me up and I was looking forward to the evening. We met a lot of our friends and most of them knew about my loss, so no one really spoke about it.

I went to pick up a drink for myself and heard a woman fighting with her husband. “Rahul, I know she’s your colony friend but her husband is dead and she’s lonely. Don’t you understand she is hitting on you? Please keep your distance from her.”

I was shocked, angry and sad all at the same time. My brother had heard this too; he just held my hand – a sign of support and love. I wanted to cry, scream at all the people around me.

I had lost my husband and I was just trying to cope up with my life! Why was I termed as a woman looking out for support, wherever she gets it just because she was lonely?

Sameer was my companion; I was with him not because I needed him but because I loved him! But I was sure and confident on what I wanted to do with my life now. I had all the right to be HAPPY!

These people could not push me back into depression, how much ever they tried.

Women have all the rights to live their lives fully. We all knowingly, unknowingly give names and point fingers to many women around us and mainly single women. A divorced woman, a widow and a girl who doesn't have a boyfriend are all been termed either as a “Bitch” by all or “Easily Available” for men or as a “Threat” by other women.  

Peaceful Sleep

Run! Run Fast! Hurry up. You need to take bigger steps; you can’t be so slow - I heard my father screaming at me. We were saving our lives from some random people who I did not recognize. The only reason I was running from them was because my father was.

There was no way I could find out the reason. The darkness scared me further. I had grabbed my father’s hand but could not meet the pace of my father. Suddenly the people behind came nearer and my father sped up. I lost him, I lost him somewhere. I was all alone in the dark. I was going to be kidnapped, I was going to die! I knew it. My father left me alone; he did not turn to see me. He saved his life and ran away. I was sitting there unable to decide anything.

And I woke up from my dream sweating with a severe headache, from a dream that had been following me since I was 15.

My dad was dead; to be more specific he committed suicide when I was 15 leaving behind loans debts and a business that had failed miserably. My relatives walked away without giving a helping hand to me and my mom. They did not want to get into such a big mess. Our home was snatched away from us by the bank against the loan.

I had always been a silent kid, moreover a scared kid. I did have clear opinions about my rights and wrongs but never had the guts to speak up against the wrong. I was always indecisive.

When people abused my mother to be the unlucky woman in my father’s life, I kept quiet.

When I was molested by my uncle post my fathers death, I kept quiet. 

When my grandmother slapped my mother because she refused to shave off her hair which usually Hindu widows are supposed to do, I kept quiet.

I was angry on everyone around me, I was insulted, my mother was insulted but I kept quiet. I don’t know why I never could open my mouth. I screamed in my dreams but no one heard me.

Mom and me left Delhi and moved to a comparatively smaller city called Pune in Maharashtra. Everything was so different here; there was no one we knew. But mom wanted to come very far from Delhi. She wanted to settle in a place where the memories of my father and his failure won’t haunt us, where I, her young daughter won’t be hurt. But little did she know, I was not hurt, I was completely broken within. I had a feeling of hollowness.

I told my mother I did not want to study. She left the decision on me and I was standing there not knowing what am I going to do with my life.

My mom treated me as an equal. She wanted me to speak up, be decisive and be independent.

I chose Bharatanatyam, a beautiful form of dance, very close to my heart. I did not have to shout, I could express with my eyes. On my first performance, I saw people noticing my moods and applauding for the same.

The bad dreams I had started fading as years passed by. They never left me alone but they were sure less in number now. I was doing well in my career and my mom in her small business. We both were happy.

My relatives walked in home one day and they expressed the family’s unhappiness with my dancing career. Before my mother could defend me, I told them this was our decision and we would not like anyone’s advice on the same and politely asked them to leave our home.

The dreams never came back again and I slept peacefully after that. I was not alone, I had myself, my words and my dance with me!