My fingers trembled as I held the pen, I was so sure of what I wanted, I had fought family and friends, my own morals and values to be here, then why were my hands shaking as if their very existence was at stake? His hand gently held my other, and it gave me all the strength I needed. I closed my eyes - I could only see my mum’s tear-stained face, my dad’s terror, my family’s shame at their daughter’s deed.
They say when your life is near its end, you see everything like a movie and the thing / person you care about the most is the most vivid image in your mind. My life was hardly near its end yet it felt like I was about to choke to death, people I had loved, trusted and still did with all my being, would hate me from now on. A range of emotions battled within me – hope won. I had to take a stand for myself, it was time, I opened my eyes and whispered “sorry mum, sorry dad”. I signed as fresh tears escaped my eyes.
They say when your life is near its end, you see everything like a movie and the thing / person you care about the most is the most vivid image in your mind. My life was hardly near its end yet it felt like I was about to choke to death, people I had loved, trusted and still did with all my being, would hate me from now on. A range of emotions battled within me – hope won. I had to take a stand for myself, it was time, I opened my eyes and whispered “sorry mum, sorry dad”. I signed as fresh tears escaped my eyes.
I can assure you running away from home is not as easy or romantic as the movies make it look like. Sure it’s exciting- the rush, the adrenaline, the joy diluted with pain- it’s just about as tiring as it can get. Yet I just lived a dream, right now i stand as a wife, officially a wife. “I’m in love with this courtroom”- it’s all i can think of. The man I love beyond reason placed a seal on our love with this marriage. I know all the wrongs and rights associated with “running away” but, hey I’m an adult and I have every right to take my decisions myself-esp about who I want to spend the rest of my life with. My parents can’t force me to change who I am for a guy of their choice.
People walk in and out, the sky is clear , just like my mind – in spite of the turmoil I feel oddly at peace. Everyone looks so remote here, no one smiles, no one bothers. We don’t come here for “legal help” , we are here because we want our right, our freedom, we are here because it matters so much in our lives. Were it trivial we wouldn’t be here, But the people in the court are barely aware of how much it matters to us, for them it's just another day at work, they become so immune to their job that they hardly place any emotional value to the events.
My now husband's car is parked a few blocks away so I decided to wait outside on the stairs. I sat down and across the road I saw a little girl holding her mother’s hand, her mother gently tugging her along, she saw the ice-cream vendor and planned her deal. She begged for ice-cream, her mother refused and tried to talk her out of it but she persisted- getting a little stubborn moving her hands wildly and leaving her mother’s hand and running towards the ice-cream cart.
That image, that moment will never leave my mind;the parting of hands. Even in childhood, we leave our parent’s hand when they don’t agree with us, just like we do when we grow up, and eventually, like always our parents will come around. Or so we hope.
She fell down, her mother forgot the world and rushed to her, kissed her little head, bought her an ice-cream, took her hand and walked on - if I had given my parents enough time, perhaps if I had been stubborn, would they have come around? Maybe they will. It gives me hope more than I can ask for. It feels like the universe is sending me a signal that my parents too will accept me one day.
I want to tell that mother to never leave her child, to never say no to anything she asks for, to never put her in a situation where she will be forced to break her own heart and their trust. I want to tell her to give her the freedom of choice as she grows. Tears slip away again, they just seem to need a reason even in my current state of ecstasy.
Then I noticed her, even with tears in her eyes, she smiled at me – thank god for a human here, I smiled back. Her eyes show so much of love lost, she could be very young, perhaps just a few years older than me, but her face seemed like she’d seen a bad storm, Like a gambler who had put her hope and trust out in the open, rolled the dice and lost it - a young divorcee. I wonder if that is me in a few years time. That smile, that look seemed to be telling me to change my decision and run back home, that I’m wrong. But it was already too late.
Ironic isn’t it I just started my story in the same room where another girl’s probably just ended.
My fingers trembled as I held the pen, I was so sure of what I wanted, I had fought family and friends, my own morals and values to be here, then why were my hands shaking as if their very existence was at stake? His hand gently held my other, and it gave me all the strength I needed. I closed my eyes - I could only see my mum’s tear-stained face, my dad’s terror, my family’s shame at their daughter’s deed.
They say when your life is near its end, you see everything like a movie and the thing / person you care about the most is the most vivid image in your mind. My life was hardly near its end yet it felt like I was about to choke to death, people I had loved, trusted and still did with all my being, would hate me from now on. A range of emotions battled within me – hope won. I had to take a stand for myself, it was time, I opened my eyes and whispered “sorry mum, sorry dad”. I signed as fresh tears escaped my eyes.
They say when your life is near its end, you see everything like a movie and the thing / person you care about the most is the most vivid image in your mind. My life was hardly near its end yet it felt like I was about to choke to death, people I had loved, trusted and still did with all my being, would hate me from now on. A range of emotions battled within me – hope won. I had to take a stand for myself, it was time, I opened my eyes and whispered “sorry mum, sorry dad”. I signed as fresh tears escaped my eyes.
My dad’s car was parked a few blocks away so he told me to wait at the stairs outside courtroom. “He” passed by me and didn’t even look back. There was a time he would never leave without looking back and blowing me a kiss. That was then, this was now. Going through a divorce is probably one of the toughest things a girl can undergo. It’s like trying to escape a black hole, the more you walk out, the more you get pulled in. It is still beyond my understanding how can you love someone so much to promise to be with them with forever , and yet in times of need fall back on that only hope a girl survives on. How can you not muster up the courage to defend the girl you love, in front of others? How much do you expect a girl to change just because she is your wife now? How can you defame her like that, how can you be so intimate with her and forget all of it and ask for a divorce.?
People walk in and out, the sky is clear , just like my mind – in spite of the turmoil I feel oddly at peace. Everyone looks so remote here, no one smiles, no one bothers. We don’t come here for “legal help” , we are here because we want our right, our freedom, we are here because it matters so much in our lives. Were it trivial we wouldn’t be here, But the people in the court are barely aware of how much it matters to us, for them it's just another day at work, they become so immune to their job that they hardly place any emotional value to the happenings.
I sat down and across the road I saw a little girl holding her mother’s hand, her mother gently tugging her along, she saw the ice-cream vendor and planned her deal. She begged for ice-cream, her mother refused and tried to talk her out of it but she persisted- getting a little stubborn moving her hands wildly and leaving her mother’s hand and running towards the ice-cream cart.
That image, that moment will never leave my mind- the parting of the hands. Even in childhood, we leave our parent’s hand when they don’t agree with us, just like we do when we grow up, and eventually, like always our parents will come around. Or so we hope.
She fell down, her mother forgot the world and rushed to her, kissed her little head, bought her one, took her hand and walked on – I feel grateful for my parents standing by my decision. I see my own parents reflected in that mother, and I know whatever mistake that child will make, her mother will always be there for her.
I want to tell that child to never trust a man other than her father in her life, I want to tell her to never let go of her mother’s hand because if she does, she is only going to fall down. I want to tell her that although her parents will hold her hand again, they will feel the pain- magnified. That only you will be responsible for what they are going through and even if your life is happy with your decision, a part of you will always long for a better story- one where your parents never had to face anything because of you , one where you made them proud. These days my tears are definitely on the rebound, paying me back in full interest for all the times I had tried to subdue them.
I look around and see a girl perhaps a couple of years younger, she’s got tears in her eyes, so I smile at her. Even with tears in her eyes, she smiles back. Her eyes shine with fresh rays of hope- masking the pain that seems so far away. that smile radiating so much joy- so she’s another registered wife today. She reminds me of me a couple of years ago. I smile, although I really just want to tell her to run back home and change her decision; she seems to understand but I guess now is a little too late for that. I pray I’m not jinxing her happiness.
Irony has her own ways of revealing herself- my relationship ended just moments ago in the same room that she started a new one.
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