Smothered by domestic violence. Her happily-ever-after was his parting gift.

Domestic violence, marital rape, and alcohol: A deadly trio plaguing our society.

While the flames consumed his mortal remains liberating the captive soul, the holy fire redeemed her living body from his hell-hound grasp.

Story of an ‘Indian maid and her good for nothing husband’.

The female protagonist of this story is played Pushpa, my maid (maybe your’s will fit in just as well), and the male lead embodied to perfection by her (‘addicted, worthless, burden-on-her-shoulder’) husband. He beats his lady love mercilessly a bit too often, painting her petite figure red and blue with his masterstrokes. His love-display continues for sometimes, even after he snatches away all her earnings for his mandatory ‘Daru ka quota'(alcohol-refill).

Her traumatized shell quivers in pain, pinned helplessly under his body every night. Yet, she works with a sparkling twinkle in her drizzly eyes, caressing the dream of a better future for her children.

He stands shamelessly between her and her aspirations rather than shouldering any responsibility of the family. After a few initial dramatic attempts, Pushpa resigned to her fate, accepting the bestowed doom.

I was getting impatient tolerating Pushpa’s frequent absents from work. She kept rambling one reason after another in a pitiful tone:

Didi, Aaj mai nahi aa paungi! (Madam, I can’t come today)

• Usne kal raat bahut maara mujhe! (My husband beat me last night)
• Mera sara paisa cheen liya! (He snatched all my money)
• Bachon ko bahut maar raha hai! (He is beating the kids mercilessly)
• Uske laendar hum sab ko pareshan kar rahe hain! (He has taken money from loan sharks, who are now harassing us)
• Wo peeke besudh pada hai! (He is lying almost unconscious after his last binge)
• Usko jaldi hospital lena hai! (I need to take him to a hospital, asap)
Sorry!

As anticipated, he continued to drink and get sicker day by day, clutching dearly to the robes of his psychopomp. His hospital visits got more frequent, so does his binges, and her absents. She exhausted all her savings and invested all her strength, in her dire attempts at redeeming his health.

I found the script, and the role-playing pretty idiotic and despicable, yet I couldn’t do much except gawking on, as a mute spectator.

Could I do something?

Perhaps, I could and I would have, only if she had allowed me to. I kept offering help, and she kept rejecting it. Despite her denials, I frequently tried my luck at convincing her to get rid of him, lodge a police complaint, or send him to some rehab, at least. She kept repeating- Didi, marad hai, sehna padta hai! (Madam, he is my husband, I must endure)

Even her family stood with him, and he relished the support from his. I fail to understand how can it be accepted as a norm to get beaten (domestic violence, at its worst), and raped (marital rape) as a routine, in addition to losing all the earning to your beloved predator?

When humans falter at their humanity,
God steps in, to save us from profanity.

His tired body eventually surrendered, unable to handle the misuse anymore. The captive soul was liberated from the holds of cursed life.

She was a wrecked soul for quite a while, sulking in her allotted grief. The burnt-out strength took time to heal before her quivering feet could support her exhausted frame.

It may hurt like hell, yet getting rid of a gangrenous limb is the only life-saver. Expectedly, this relief soon ignited her lost spark, restoring the twinkle in her eyes.

Her corpus exudes optimism as she watches her playful fledglings with delight; her home has ample food and the school-bags packed with the promise of a bright future.

This cinderella got her happily-ever-after, woken from her deep slumber by his death’s kiss.

Whether it is openly displayed or hidden behind the luxurious curtains of our uber-modern lives, the suffering is the same. This infraction, of the celebrated ‘Husband-supremacy’, is deep-rooted in our society, and is compounded by an unjustifiable cultural allowance for domestic violence, and forced sex.

PS: It is time to shun the wrong-endorsements of our self-proclaimed righteous society.

If you know someone who needs help in this regard, the National Commission of Women can be contacted at these numbers. They offer financial and legal support, along with counseling and shelter services for women in distress.

If you liked my take on this plaguing predicament in our society, do read my blogs highlighting other social issues like name change after marriage, and gender-bias faced by a pregnant employee in the corporate world.