Moving On…

I always had my life planned to the ‘T’. Every day in my life started with a list of things to do and every night before I dozed off I would review the things I had completed and the things I didn’t. Even though it sounds mechanical my life was far from being so. I had friends with whom I enjoyed spending time, a great family to come home to and goals which I were steadily achieving one at a time.

Hence it came as no surprise to those around me when I decided to get married at the age of 23 . For most girls in India this is considered the correct time to get married and the girls begin to delay the prospect of getting married just out of college. For my parents and me it was a smooth transition. I decided I was ready to shoulder the responsibility of handling a household and quite frankly I loved tending to the house, taking on the responsibilities of the household from my mother long before I got married. Promptly my parents uploaded my profile on the popular matrimonial sites and soon I found myself engaged to be married.

Life seemed near to being perfect for unlike most girls I did not see marriage as limiting in any way. My parents had given me every freedom that every human should get and I even had a say in the household decisions as and when I came of age so I naturally expected this to continue in my matrimonial home only be shocked beyond every possible wildest imagination. What began as normal taunts which I did expect as normal in every Indian in-laws house soon turned into domestic violence and within nine months of marriage I found myself sitting in my parents house battered and bruised both physically and emotionally.

Life back then felt beyond repair but I felt a strange sense of freedom not just to take decisions about my own life but to simply breathe. Slowly with the sense of freedom returned control and self confidence. Few months on my life is relatively back under my own control leaving aside the part that still hangs by a thread depending on the court’s decision. So the process of picking up and moving what started the day I landed up battered and bruised in my parents house stills continues and I guess will continue till the day I can look back at the events without anger, hatred and a want for revenge.


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