“I didn’t want to marry you” he said. Did I ever say I would marry you? I stood glued to the spot. My heart was pierced, like a thousand daggers. One could argue that it was just words, but like thoughts can be negative, that day, those words thrown at my face was almost like a slap across my face. A slap that would scare me for the rest of my life. I could not help but wonder that this could be the fate of a woman, to bear the brunt and harsh words of a man who had lived with me for over 10 years, who had shared my dreams, my fears and yet could utter such rubbish to my face. His look was like a dagger, a fierce looking dagger, freshly sharpened and ready to slice. The face brightened up like a brand new knife, the setting sun sending its rays on the shining blade.
Two weeks later, he struck again, this time with a fork. I didn’t know what was happening myself, until I felt the blades of the silver metal ware on my skin. Drops of blood trickled to the ground and all I noticed was a fresh wound on my left arm. The criminal had struck at me again, this time with a weapon. He had appeared as a knife, but, now he was using not only physical force, but a fork, a piece of cutlery ware which we use to hold a piece of meat in place. I was being treated like an animal, attacked and stabbed, he was the hunter and I was the hunted. Mayila told me her story with pain and tears in her eyes. She had not been a school success, but she had tried her best and was able to get thorough her school work as best as possible. She had dreams of gaining a government job, nothing fancy, but a simple job where she would be able to support herself and be proud of the small achievements of life.
Her parents were not wealthy, but they were able to support her and her younger sister, although they were often told that they were to be married off as soon as they were of ripe age. The fatal day arrived way too soon as she was back from her last exam. She had barely finished the last paper of her SC exams and already her parents were waiting for her at the gate. As this was an unusual scene, Mayila felt that something was not right. Her mum ushered her in and told her that a suitor was coming that evening to seek her hand in marriage. Obviously, I felt that she was giving me a nicer version of her story, as I felt that it was mostly being imposed on her and she did not have any say in her parents’ decision. Harry seemed to be a pleasant young man, although she could not tell from one meeting what kind of man he would be. His parents did much of the talking and he seemed to nod in approval to everything they said. It was then that she thought “Will I be dictated by my in-laws?” “What kind of life will this be?” There was not much time to protest or to say anything. A girl’s voice could not be heard and neither did she have permission to say anything. A girl was expected to be obedient, from being a doll in her father’s house to being a doll in her future husband’s house.
A few moments later, she had to serve tea to her future husband and was not allowed to make eye contact with anyone, let alone ask him his name. Her parents seemed to beam with happiness and in no time the deal was sealed. No questions allowed, no consultation of her feelings, nothing allowed. She ran to her room and collapsed on the bed, tears running down her cheeks and her sister slowly consoling her, although at this point, nobody could offer any form of support. Thousands of questions, thoughts, fears and feelings of helplessness swept through her veins, her blood and her heart. What was there to do? Nothing at this point. The wedding had been concluded and would be celebrated in a month’s time. Harry lifted her veil from her face and starred into her eyes. She was not sure what to read, but there certainly was not love. I had been dreading this moment, he slowly came closer and started breathing in my face. I could feel the harsh violent swirl of his breath, hot and cold at the same time. I felt his lips come closer to mine, I felt repulsed and my heart sinking at the thought that this man, this stranger would now possess my body. Suddenly, he snatched the veil aside and whispered in my ears: “ I am in love with somebody else, so you can just pretend to be the dutiful wife as I will not be needing you”. My world collapsed, shattered into a million pieces, I was a broken vase, of no use anymore. I was not expecting any happiness, nor any recognition, but now to be told that I was not needed.
Why? Why sacrifice the life of one person for another? I later understood that he had been having an affair with another woman but could not marry her as she was from a different religion. I was an unwanted token of his life, a compromise to make his parents happy. From now on, I would be his sexual toy, a body to play with and a servant to fulfil his daily needs, but no attention would be paid to my heart, my feelings, my pain or my happiness. Mayila suddenly gave out a shriek as Sweety, her 8 year old daughter fell into her lap. Despite everything, Harry cared for his daughter. It was not in a consistent way, but at least they had one thing in common and that was to give Sweety a good and positive life. Mayila starred into my eyes and I could sense her apprehension: would Sweety also have to suffer the same consequences of her fate? She hugged the young girl possessively and as her big grey eyes made eye contact with mine, I saw and sensed her fears. Sweety’s innocence was palpable, but till when would this last? How many generation of women would be affected by men? Girls suffering in silence, women being tortured. Who will rescue us?
Contributeur: Tamiyendi Rungasamy
Facebook Comments