#confessionsonsafarnamay: Mein talaaq yaafta hoon, kamzor nahin.

When I returned from England with a medical post graduate degree to marry my suitor, my father could never imagine the kind of life I was about to begin. The man who seemed to be the perfect match for me, who seemed to respect not just me but my idea of pursuing a career as a doctor after marriage, my choice of clothes and my choice of friends, turned out to be the complete opposite.

Domestic violence began soon after my marriage. I was hit and beaten up within the confines of my bedroom. Abuses were hurled at me as my in laws witnessed the scene. My character was questioned. I was not free to drive, to work, or even freely meet my own brother. I was woken up at 5 am in the morning to manage all the house chores, from washing the toilets to cooking the meals, single-handedly. The house help was kicked out because my in laws now had me as an unpaid servant.The man who vowed to protect me could not control his hands or his tongue even after I started expecting his child. Tired and exhausted, when I wasn’t able to fulfill his physical needs at night, he would lose his temper.

Life did not stop testing me even after my delivery. My precious little daughter was born with a condition called Patent Ductus Arteriosus. The doctor asked me to nurture her with utmost care as any form of infection could lead to heart complications and prove fatal for her. With the house chores already taking a toll on me, I now had the added responsibility of taking care of a new born who had a special condition. There were times when I wanted to give up, but I gathered every ounce of strength from my being to keep my marriage intact for for my girl. I wanted her to have a complete life with both her mother and her father to look after and protect her.

In all this time, the physical and emotional abuse continued. I wanted to keep this from my parents, who, I felt, will not be able to deal with the trauma that their daughter is not happy in her marriage. One day, as my husband lost his temper, he slapped me in front of our daughter, who was just two. She began to cry in horror. That was my tipping point. I decided I cannot continue living with a man who not just disrespects me, but also does not care about what kind of a environment he is giving his daughter to grow up in. 

I left for my parents house and told them everything. They wished I had taken them into confidence before. They said they can deal with my home breaking, but they cannot bear my self respect being shredded into pieces, day after day, in front of their grandchild. With their support, I filed for divorce.

From that day on, I decided to be strong for my daughter. She started school and I began a job as well as private practice. I have never asked for a penny from my ex-husband, who turned out to be a bigger jerk than I thought he was. Perhaps, zaalim is the right word for him. He broke all ties with his own flesh and blood by sending me a legal document, stating that she has no claim to his property. With the passage of time I have been able to heal my heart but I have not been able to forgive him. Today, my life revolves around my beautiful daughter, who, by the grace of God, is free from PDA. I am financially independent and can afford to support myself and her. Together, we take vacations, watch movies, order in pizzas and enjoy life to the fullest. When I smile, I do it with honesty, I do it with all my heart, because I have nothing holding me back from being happy.

Yes, a good partner can make life heaven for you. But a partner that physically and emotionally abuses you makes life a living hell. Aisay mard ke saharay se acha hai aurat apna sahara khud banay. My heart goes out to my parents who understood my pain and supported me at every step of the way. Had they been stuck in ‘logon ko kya jawaab dein gay’, I’d still be hiding my bruises from the world. And my daughter……I don’t even want to begin thinking how a disturbed childhood would have affected her personality and mental development. I am happy I realized that when a woman decides to be strong, she can be an iron-lady.

By Anonymous.

This story has been illustrated by Remal Thoughts. You can check out more of her work here.