Free At Last

Off went her weight,

Off went her pinched face,

Off went her long tresses…with them like the strength that Samson lost, she lost the resentment she harboured, the yearning and the disappointment. Somehow he did not matter anymore nor did his indifferent behaviour hurt. No more were there cycles of hurt, forgiveness and Karmic bondages, and he had set her free.

With Tulasidas it was his wife’s comment, “if you had loved God as much you would have realized him by now.” Too had, that neither Tulasidas nor his wife figured that it was God that they were experiencing. With her it was it angry declaration, ”How much of my space will you violate?”

One is brought up to believe that marriage is about weaving energies and spaces to create a pattern, sometimes a stitch dropped sometimes one had to pick an additional stitch, sometimes new colours weave into it , but if she was violating his space, she had no business to be there, that simply set her free …

Its strange how we tend to remember hurt and the angry words more often than the kisses and flowers, the moment he hurled, ”how much of my space will you violate?”

her lonely struggle, as she made the beds, shopped for groceries, which he did take over because he felt she did not know how to do it, her guilt that the slipcover material did not match because she was too tired to find the match, eating cold left over for dinner, piloting for rehearsals and shopping on a dying two wheeler with the kids bags and manovering the traffic, and the question as she lay beside him each night, a question which she afraid to ask even of herself, the silent question–,”is this all” seemed to be trivialized.

When he hurled,  ”How much of my space will you violate” all that she saw, was the door slammed to keep her out, this from everyone whom she believed to family, for whom she tried to create a place where one is free from attack, a place when one experiences secure relationships and affirmations, a place where people understood each other, nurtured each other, there was no need to perfect, but the need to be honest, loving supportive … maybe that was utopia.

Isn’t that the greatest tragedy? When someone rejects us, no matter how they abuse our love we hope against reason that somehow they will come back to us. but this time when he hurled, ”how much of my space will you violate”  she realized that she was forcing a partnership on someone who did not believe in it, it was rape of kind, because his space had not invited her in, and she had jumped into with a foreplay. Indeed he felt violated.

She had not recognized his response to these transgressions; he was alternately aggressive or withdrawn, now he had physically retreated too. She had always thought that there were two kinds of people who drained our energy, those who we love, and those who we fear and in both instances it was we who let them in, here she saw the third, the stagnant.

The words hurled at her shook to an epiphany, when she realized she no longer need to be thankful for the crumbs thrown at her after his energy was fed by his mother, brother, sister, work, travel and friends, she could hunt for her own food. She no longer needed to look at the closed door and seek to enter; she could open another door or window and fly right out. Little thrill here and little flutter there, at the end of it she would come home, and home was a person, ….herself.

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