Saturday, September 29, 2012

The Other Side

“The thing is, Ketan, I realize now that you are scared to know me, because you are afraid of loving me. It is against your ego or your principle that you have grown up with.” Her words reverberated in my ears as I looked at her struggling to live.

Today, for the first time, I am feeling what my wife had wanted me to feel for years. I am scared of losing her. I don’t know if it is love, but I know if she dies, there will be a vacuum in my life that no one else will be able to fill. I know this is God’s punishment for what I have done in the past 6 years of my marriage, but today, I don’t want God to punish me. I need him to forgive me and give me another chance. I want Anjali to experience the bliss that she deserved.

The doctors are busy trying to save her life, but it seems they are losing her. I think she is working against them; she has probably lost the will to live. All because of me! I am sure had she married someone else, she would be happy.

Perhaps she is right. I am scared of loving her. I have always seen my father being controlled by my mother to get her way; it was my mother who made all the important decisions of our lives while my father never had the guts to speak in front of her. At first, I used to pity him and then, I started hating him for bearing with it. He was a man; he was supposed to take a stand. But I always felt that mother had some kind of invisible power over him and father refused to fight for his dignity. I resolved I will never let this happen to me. My wife will never dominate me in any way; she will not yell at me in public; she will not dictate our lives and she will abide by my rules.

Anjali did all that, and she loved me. She was always by my side. She made all the sacrifices I asked her to. She left her job; she even aborted our first child though children mean a lot to her, because I was not ready. To be honest, I asked her to quit her job to have more control over her life. And I asked her to abort the baby because I wanted to build my own house before I became a father. I wanted to be a role model for my son, unlike my father. But I will confess I somehow got some pleasure when I saw her losing her dreams. She was an image of my mother and making her life tough felt like avenging my father’s dignity.

But then, all the dedication Anjali had towards me changed when one year back she conceived and miscarried. The doctor blamed it on the first abortion and late pregnancy. Anjali was hurt and for the first time, she started asserting her individuality. She even began questioning my decisions. And finally, to find some respite from what her life had become, she found a hobby. She loved painting, and she was good at it. The first few paintings she made were sold to some local shops around our house and they started coming back asking for more. Anjali was happy. Within 3 months, her paintings became popular and she became a member of an art gallery. When I tried to stop her from doing so, she refused to listen. That was the first time. I forgave her, attributing this behavior on her loss and medications. But then, we started fighting almost every other day. She started expressing herself very clearly and insisted that I take her opinion on everything. I felt like I was losing my control over her. I did not like it.
I can’t believe what I am seeing. I can see Anjali standing near her bed, watching over herself. How is that possible? Is she dead? Perhaps I am tired. And suddenly, she disappears…
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Isn’t it weird that I am not feeling any pain? I think I have had a miscarriage once again. Yes, now I can remember. I and Ketan were fighting again and he left the house. I was so angry with him that I ran down the stairs after him to confront him, but I slipped. I remember the pain, the blood and I can recall that Ketan had come back, probably hearing my scream and he had called the ambulance. I had blacked out after that.
When I married Ketan, all I wanted was to have a loving husband and 3 children. I did my best to please Ketan, yet he was never happy with me. I never complained, even when he asked me to abort our first baby. I thought it was probably right for him to ask for more time if he wasn’t ready; at least he wanted to be a good father. But then, I miscarried a year back and I knew God was punishing me for killing my  first unborn child. I decided that day onwards to take my own decisions. I have always wanted to be an artist, hence I took up painting once again. Ketan was not happy. He has never supported me in anything, so I didn’t care if he did not then. All I wanted was to forget my pain and painting helped me. I even made some money from my artwork. And I thought I would finally become independent. But Ketan did not want me to succeed, and we started having fights. They were vicious, because he had never loved me and I also stopped caring about him. I stopped obeying him, which was tough for him to come to terms to.  Then, I conceived again. This time, I wanted to give birth to my child at all costs. So I started keeping myself happy, and kept my distance from my husband.

Over the months I realized that the reason behind Ketan’s behavior with me was something that he thought his father never had – control over the household. So one day, I told him what I thought about him. During an argument, he accused me of not being a good wife. I knew I had to say it out, in order to be free of him. So I said, “Ketan, I was a very dedicated wife and I loved you despite your atrocities. And I always wondered why you could not understand my feelings. Now I know. You are scared to be close to me. You think you are protecting yourself by not developing feelings for your wife. You don’t want to be like your father. You think of your father as a loser. You resent your mother for being so dominating. And you are spoiling your married life because you hate your parents for what they were. The thing is, Ketan, that you are scared to know me, because you are afraid of loving me. It is against your ego or your principle that you have grown up with. You think you are safe by being indifferent. But let me tell you something, you are the unluckiest man alive. You have someone in your life who wants to love you with all she has, and all you are giving her is pain. I don’t want to live with you anymore; all I care about is the child I am carrying. I want a good life for my child and I realize it cannot happen with you.”
Ketan was shocked to hear this; he never anticipated I would say that. In fact, I was surprised myself. I had not planned on leaving till now. But I knew that was the only way my child would grow up to be a happy individual. Ketan did not say anything and left the house. I ran behind him. I wanted to know his answer. Then, the accident happened. I woke up in the hospital. But it is like I am in another world. I cannot feel anything right now – no pain, no hurt, no tears. In fact, I feel free. I can see my husband sitting outside ICU and looking sad. I can hear his thoughts! He is asking God to forgive him; I am sure this is a dream. Ketan does not love me. But it seems real. What is happening to me? I hear the doctor telling Ketan that my child is already dead and I might also not survive the night. Is Ketan crying? I want to ask him if he really loves me. No, I want to die. This is peaceful. What would I go back to, if I survived? My only reason to live, my child, is gone. But something is stopping me.
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I am very tired and I want all this to be over. I want Anjali to be fine again, but the doctor says she might not even survive the night. I can see why she doesn’t want to live anymore. What would she come back to? She has lost her child and she thinks I do not love her. I do. I wish she could hear me. I love her. I can’t control my tears. If she dies tonight, I will never be able to forgive myself. God, please let her live. At least bring her back for few moments so that I can apologize and tell her that I love her. Suddenly, I see frenzy in the ICU. Something’s happening. I peek inside and I can see her eyes piercing into my soul, as if asking me a question. I feel she wants to know if she has anything to come back to. I look at her and mouth the words, “Yes, I do, Anjali! Please come back.”
The ICU is normal again. The doctors seem pleased. I see one doctor coming out. I run to him. He says, “Your wife is stable now. She will survive!”
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