Family Courts are ideally supposed to be places of justice to solve family disputes and help warring couples separate to move on with their lives, but this picture is just that-ideal. In reality Family Courts are nothing short of hell. They are dark, gloomy and ill-boding buildings or rather black-holes, into which once you are sucked it is difficult to get out. It is thus not surprising that in India people do not wish to fall into the trap of the police and the judicial system.
Here you will find separated parents and children meeting each other in the midst of criminal being brought handcuffed for trials which take years if not decades to be wrapped up. God forbid if you find yourself in a contested divorce like me, you will find yourself spending the complete day of the hearing in the court complex where there are no decent washrooms, every corner is liberally stained with red betel juice and you will be slowly drawn into the hierarchy of bribery that exists openly. Should you be a person of principles and strictly against bribing you can simply forget about getting your divorce in your lifetime.
The day I filed for my divorce I expected to be divorced within 6-7 months but now after seeing the workings of the Family Court and speaking to other unfortunate litigants I am grudgingly accepting the reality of having to make rounds of the court complex for another few months, god forbid years. This coupled with a Judge who refuses to take any decision whatsoever even if it is a minor thing as providing interim maintenance, frustration is a euphemism for what I am feeling right now. I cannot even imagine the plight of women who are far less fortunate than me and require the assistance of the court to live in a dignified manner.
In a country where the laws are pro-women it is unfortunate to see that the thinking is otherwise especially when a wife is not even considered equal to the husband in terms of financial compensation. Many a times, wives are provided with a maintenance which is a pittance and less than what the husband pays the servants of his house. So while I am tortured at every instance seeing my tormentors go free, laughing, cracking jokes at my expense and simply living life as if nothing happened I am left pleading for my life before I see my youth washed away in the quagmire of scheming lawyers, judges and the opposite party.