Time does not always heal, sometimes it leaves unbearable scars

I’m a slow walker, but I never walk back.
–Abraham Lincoln

The other day, I was watching a Oprah re-run and something she said blurred the lines between past and present, between hurts and wounds and even crime and punishment….

In her lilting unforgettable twang Ms. Winfrey intoned, “Turn your wounds into wisdom.” And I don’t know why, those words transported me to a past that still has the ability to cause pain, elicit fear and even result in hysteria in my otherwise calm existence. Is it always possible to turn each and every wound into moments of wisdom….?

Hey babes! Long time yeah? Well, if you are wondering about what I have been up to, well there were not all that many sexcapades between then and now. The reason? Well, am not a Nymphomaniac! The crush and I had a couple of nights to ourselves and that was that! He did ask me out a couple of times, but before he could sense where it was going, I had a feeling and so started avoiding him. As such I never wanted to break homes or “fall in love” again, did I? Sex, on the other hand can be a beautiful way to satiate your desires and feel good about yourself, but only when it is consensual, whether it is outside a relationship or wedlock or within it.

Let’s give the present a little rest for a while and travel back to a not-so-distant past when I was still a very-much married woman, but not quite the woman you hear from on these pages. Consensual sex in our country still comes with the trappings of tradition and convention. Sex between two adult, college-going students can still be considered a big taboo and stuff of sleazy MMSes and whispered taunts but sex between two people joined by a legal paper and mantras is ALWAYS consensual, right? Wrong! Downright hypocritical, I say!

The definition of rape, abuse, violence somehow take on an extremely blurry yet hunky dory feel when regarded within the bounds of that oh-so-sanctified institution called Marriage. But when it comes to rape, I know how it feels. I have been a victim too. Yeah been raped and I was such a sucker that I did not even raise my voice then, out of love, or whatever it was that I felt for the man then. I am talking about none other than the man I was married to. The man who took flimsy vows to protect and nurture me and then went about breaking each of those vows in the most painful ways possible! And what I’m referring to is Marital Rape. There were nights when I feigned headache, when I had a bad day at work, or the maids did not turn up. There were nights when I was ‘dry’ down there, but he would want it, nevertheless. There were times, when I would ask him to make me feel “up to it” and which he did. But there were also times, when in spite of all this, I just did not feel like making love! I specifically remember how some very, very rare nights unfolded. He would come home drunk, would demand I get into the mood. I would try and try and still before I could even prepare myself for it, I would be feeling his weight on me, coaxing my legs apart, fondling me here, and then there. And I would give in, without participating in the act of “lovemaking”, without even realizing that he has long satiated himself and is snoring away into oblivion. Yes, he was oblivious to my tears, my silent cries, my lying awake for hours on end. I had never imagined sex to be so painful.

The problem with me was, like so many other girls of my generation, I grew up on a heavy dose of Mills&Boons and Harlequins. Little did I realize that life is not always as it appears in books and films. Virginity was sacred for me and I would have never dreamed that I would end up separating from my husband ever. And had it been limited to these occasional rapes, I would have stayed on married. But heck!

I want all you women to know, your body and mind should be in the act of lovemaking. If you do not consent to it, no one should dare touch you or force you into the act. Yes, as a woman, I should have refused him and not surrendered to his animal instincts night after night. But I did, as I always feared that if I refuse, I would be ignoring my duties on bed. But in doing so, I ignored my duties to myself, my very Being.

And it is not just marital rapes, because there are increasing incidents of date rapes too. There are women who trust their male friends and they are subjected to such brutality which leaves them scathed and wounded for life. And mind you, I am talking about mental and emotional wounds here.

Now coming back to marital rapes, these instances in my life were rare and they decreased with time, and I was thankful, silently happy. Little did I realize that he was having his share of fun with someone else, and hence I was ‘spared the rod”. Yes, marital rape is akin to domestic violence. Methinks, it is all the more worse. It happens within the four walls of your bedroom, and you suffer night after night, believing it is your duty towards your man. It is called lovemaking, but there is not a trace of love, either before or after the act. You wake up next morning, with faint bruises and bites, and when someone asks you, you blush. If you wake up with dark shadows under the eyes, you wear over-sized sunglasses to work. If the ugly bite on your neck or cleavage shows up, you try to hide it with a saree or a dupatta. Why hide it? Instead of feeling angry and violated, you feel helpless or embarrassed.

Looking back at it now, probably, it does not hurt as much today. But yes, I do regret, not speaking out. I am sure, many women like me, bear with these incidents of rapes, within wedlock, day in and day out. I prod you to speak out, and say ‘No’. Respect yourself and your bodies and learn to say no. Would you want your daughters to also go through the same? Why not raise your voice now and set examples for other women to follow? It is alright for a woman to say ‘NO’!

 

Am I being promiscuous? Oh heck!

And so I had a one-night stand!!! Yeah me, the prudish ‘auntie’ who believed that making love was not the same has having sex, especially to the ‘Bhartiya Naari’!! Yeah that me, used a man’s body to satiate her sexual urges. Don’t ask me the guy’s name; but also don’t assume that the morning after, I did not even remember his name! Of course I do remember his name. I had a crush on him in school and we happened to meet at a reunion get-together of old school friends. So how did it happen, you ask?

It happened this way … I had too much to drink, and so the dude (let’s call him, the ex-crush, for convenience sake asks his driver to drive me home since I am not confident about my driving skills (What do you expect, after downing the six tequila shots?). I quaintly hand over my car keys to the driver while he decides to drive himself back (his) home. Duh? Yeah! He does not offer me a lift home and I do not invite him upstairs for coffee either. Not just yet! What did you women think, huh? It is not a B-grade Desi movie. This man is sober enough to remember that he has a wife to go back to and he also sees through me. Yes, so he goes his way and I, mine. But there’s a twist in the tale. Read on …

I reach my front door only to realize that I have lost my house keys. So where are they? I go down to the car and am alarmed not to find them there either. The woman in me gets all panicky and she dials this guy (who else, but the ex-crush). He drives down with me to the dinner venue and we find the car keys all tucked in safe by the manager there. We discover that the keys were found my one of the attendants in the washrooms. I vouch never to touch tequila again for fear of behaving like an idiot again. The crush laughs and riles me to the best of his ability. After all he was my crush and I had messed up my impression by acting silly and careless.

I ask him for a drop home (not that I had to, he would have anyways). He says he deserves at least a coffee for all the favors and so that’s how he invites himself in. He comes up, has coffee and with the kids away, guess I also want to make the most of the opportunity. I loosen up a bit, and before we realize it, we start cracking jokes and reminiscing old times. That is when I blurt out about my crush on him. What follows after that is … well, it is not exactly X-rated, but yeah, it cannot be expressed here.

It is the first time in my life I sleep with a man am not in love with. Not that I have slept with many. And why the hell am I referring to it as “sleeping”. We are very much awake through the night, pleasuring each other, taking as much of each other as possible, and wanting more. Can’t blame a woman who is getting royally screwed and enjoying every bit of it. So did he leave a note on the bedside table and left quietly the morning after? Nah! He has breakfast with me. During breakfast, I ask him about his wife and he informs as a matter of fact that she has been abroad the last six months on project deputation. He asks me how I am faring after the separation and we chat for a bit, even exchanging anecdotes. We bot mutually agree that what happened was just natural and there should neither be guilt nor blame after that. If we got such opportune moments in future, without involving emotions and affecting our friendships, we could make the most of those moments. We both knew our priorities were our families (for me my children) and we had careers and goals to think of too. I did not need love to happen and I had that clearly in mind when I slept with this man. Things seemed so sorted and right at the moment. Do I miss him after that? Nah! I had been missing the sex and am soaking up the “morning-after” feeling and revel in the after-glow of good love-making(albeit without love, so let’s call it sex).

But soon after that one-night stand, and before hitting the shower, I decide to catch a few winks, since sleep is important for me, you know. More important that sleeping with a man. I wake up with a jolt around noon and realize that I have been dreaming strange things. The dreams are very agitating too.I dream of my ex-husband. He barges into my office and demands to know why I made such a hue and cry about his affairs when I had no moral values myself. I also dream about an ex-flame who wants to kiss me and make out with me because he feels left out and dejected (most of the boys I had a crush on or dated, could not get past holding hands).

I wonder what the heck is wrong with me. Just then, Jahnvi calls. I confide in her and she assures me it is just my conscience which is acting up. “Hey Seema, you will be just fine. It was your first time.”  She says that with a hint of humor in her voice. Well, it seems she is advising a teenager who is acting prudish after the first ‘wham-bam’ experience in the back-seat of her boyfriend’s car. Anyway, after she hangs up and while I leisurely go through the Sunday Times, I ponder about my dreams again. I have time to myself before I pick up the kids from Ratna’s and take them to the amusement park. I wonder why did I raise such a hue and cry when I found out about my ex-husband’s affairs when I myself had no hassles about sleeping with an ex-flame!!! Then I remind myself, why the guilt? I am not committed to him or to any other man, for God’s sake; and we had parted ways almost a year back. So why not live and be happy?? I have decided to drop the kids off with an aunt next weekend, and maybe invite the hunk over for lunch. What do you say?

Do you believe in the old school of thought, where you feel a woman or man is wrong, when he enjoys consensual sex? Or do you feel it is okay for an adult, to go ahead and satiate that basic instinct, without hurting any other individual, without involving emotions, without making promises, and without setting conditions? Do share what you think.

Muah to the readers,

Still basking in the after-glow,

Seema

 

That elusive thing called ‘closure’

“I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.”
― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

It hit me yesterday when I was rudely woken by the doorbell. I don’t know why it took such a long time to get to me. Delayed shock, I guess. To add to it, being jolted awake by a horrendous doorbell is not the ideal way to start your Sunday. But, whatever it was, my heart, body, mind started craving Anish like a drug. I had groggily made it to the door to shoo away the newspaper boy who had come around to settle his monthly bill, when the whole ordeal began. I opened the front door a crack and peered owlishly at the teen who I vaguely recognized. Chotu’s smile faded when I told him to come back later. He went away grudgingly with a muttered, “Saab always pays on the first Sunday…”

Okay, a quick recap of the bare essentials…Anish is..um..was..my boyfriend of 6 years. We were engaged actually, well, almost. Our families knew and approved and it won’t be too cheesy to say that we were an ideal match. In fact, Anish had moved into my Goregaon apartment last month (of course, very discreetly and only after we had broken the news of our informal engagement to both sets of parents). Our gala engagement party was to be held at the penthouse of my Uncle in Bandra. But everything went horribly wrong on the eve of the engagement.

Although, Anish and I have known each other for several years, ours was more of an on-again off-again relationship. I was always a quarter inch short of the head-over-heels, starry-eyed, violin-in-the-background brand of love. Sure, I liked him. A lot. But I could somehow never “see” us together in a future of my concoction. Anish on the other hand was always very sure. And very tenacious. He would remain unfazed on all those occasions when I tried explaining to him (teary eyed and incoherent) why ‘we’ would never work out. He would take all those mini-breakups in his stride (may be also with a slight smirk on his handsome face). And no points for guessing, we would usually be back together before the next full moon. There was this inevitability to our relationship which I think used to scare the bejesus out of me. I mean, here was a guy who was great in every way possible and he was into me. Our parents approved and so did most of our friends. But it all seemed too easy. I used to tell myself that living on a diet of Harlequins from the age of 12 had probably not been a good idea. It had made me look for more. Only, I didn’t know more of what.

When we were kids, Mummy would often say, Never let a man take you for granted. Love him, care for him but do not become the wallpaper in his living room. At 10, I was greatly amused at the idea of someone like my ample mother pasted on the wall of a living room. But I understand the potency of that simple statement today. Hang on. No, I didn’t say that Anish took me for granted. Don’t rush into conclusions, love. Um, well it was sort of the other way around. I had gotten used to this dependable, unassuming guy. I mean, yes, I am not in love with him…but then who says you can’t obsess about a man you are not that into?

But then, why aren’t I happy? Or breathing easy, that is? What is it about me that I am ever unsure? I had a great fiancé; I kept breaking up with him. I do not end up sharing anything meaningful with those other guys I date in between. I get back with this guy time and again…why? Am I scared? Has the society managed to create a deep-seated insecurity in me which says that I need a man alongside me (no matter how spark-less and vanillaesque the equation is) to be accepted to stand upright?

Jahnvi seems to be so sure all the time: drifting from one relationship to the other. Are they even relationships? I don’t know. Was mine one? How can something that has you confounded and frustrated be a proper relationship. Was Anish what I wanted or what I needed? Seema on the other hand seems so contented. Perhaps, one of those last of the one-man-woman lot.She seems so anchored. Then why can’t I? Be either happy with one person or not crave this anchorage all the time?

I am a romantic and I don’t think this one setback is enough to cure me. Truth be told, I don’t want to be cured. I enjoy the feeling of being in love. Or whatever it is that gives you a high in the first few dates/months/years of knowing a guy. With Anish too that high was initially there. Then it fizzled out. When we outgrow our clothes no one forces us into them, right? Then why is it that with relationships you have to continue no matter how much of a burden it becomes? Is it so wrong to fall in love? Over and over again. And with different people and may be even at the same time?

I miss the companionship but I am ready to move on. I always was. Does that make me a drifter? Or something that goes by a worse name?

All I know is this: it takes a lot of courage to love so we must keep falling in love. It is indeed a brave act. One that tells you, ‘hey! You are alive!’ There would be times to bid adieus to old loves…those should also be honoured. Part amicably…it always was unconditional. There would be those unlucky times when a parting would be preceded and followed by a lot of accusations and heartbreak. Don’t let that deter you. Closure is not something that can be timed or premeditated. Be prepared to miss. Even be assailed by horrible craving like mine for some time. But closure awaits you around the next bend.  Hence, most importantly, never stop loving. Love like there’s no tomorrow…you never know when you’ll come across the forever-after variety.

On that note, sayonara. I am off in the quest for that never-ending pleasure called: Looking to fall in love.

 

Jahnvi: To do or not to do…

Ah! So this is what it feels like. To dash ahead of that herd of wildebeest who seem to have mistaken your ass for Destination – Home.

Well, I have never minced my words, especially not about this. There’s a darned good reason why I am 34, single, smart, and a zillion miles away from marriage and the brouhaha that comes with it. I love my space. I love my independence. And, above all, I love myself. This might sound a tad clichéd, but seriously, I know what I am cut out for. Why would I want to trade my 1 AM movie, my 7 PM Friday evening drink, my favourite four-five or six letter words for loud snores, dirty socks, soiled diapers and  general mayhem?

I wonder how, She, my own mother, can be under such misconceptions. I mean, can’t she see what I have figured out a decade ago? I AM NOT CUT OUT FOR MARRIAGE. I have met half a dozen wannabe-grooms just to prove to her this very point. And why oh why does she think that I’d have anything in common with Mr. Investment Banker or Mr. Ivy League or Mr. Mozart Lover or Mr. Reid & Taylor? I love them in my Mills & Boon but I have never ever pictured myself as the MB heroine.

Well, to quote Mum, “Jahnvi, Once you meet the right guy, who will bring stability to your life, all the confusion would vanish.” Just like that, huh? Well, there are two premises here. What does she mean by stability? My life’s unstable? Okay, so I did not become the hotshot Lawyer like Daddy but does being a writer (aspiring) and a well paid associate editor with one of the leading publishing houses count for nothing? Who am I kidding?

Mum’s right, though. I am confused. I feel a pang sometimes when I see that inane smile on newly-married Shruti’s face. Or wonder why marriage can bring a platinum facial glow on my former pseudo-feminist, now-deliriously-married friend’s face. But I land with a thud on my butt when Shruti starts rattling off about how great Karan is but what a pain Mummy-jee can be at times. Karan is a sweetheart but I could kill his cousin Nicky, the nosey wannabe supermodel. Why am I listening to this? Isn’t this a rerun of a Prime Time K-Serial? Karan is a dream and I get soooo bored when he’s not around. Hang on. Isn’t this Shruti….the super-successful associate producer of a Prime time show on TV? The girl with whom I could enjoy a midnight snack and an aimless drive around the city at 3AM? Okay, so she said she’d take a break from work for a while. But what is this? Her husband is now her only activity? She’s bored when he’s not around? Did she also get a brain replacement, aspiration deletion and personality change surgery done along with her pre-wedding platinum facial?

I am scared. It won’t be too hard choosing a guy from the long parade. They are all educated, well spoken (albeit a little studied), smart men and who says we’ll do a lot of talking. But what if I too lose all my 3-Ds after marriage? Duh, 3-D’s are Direction, Determination and Devotion (to myself). I did not work my ass off for 12 years so that I could disappear from the scene with the wedding bells. I like the comfort of not having a giant Question Mark opening the front door for me when I return home in the wee hours. I enjoy the luxury of reading Fifty Shades all through a Sunday while munching on…well, anything. Without having to explain to a Smirky Face “what is all this BDSM hoopla”? I appreciate the fact that when my dour faced boss assesses his options, for sending one of the associate editors for a Publishers’ conference in Frankfurt, my name is not too far behind in his list. Also, when he calls me into his cabin to brief me about this trip, I am not distracted at the prospect of returning home that evening and disclosing the news to my not-too-happy-husband.

These might sound inconsequential and the rantings of a woman who has taken the notion of my space too far. But seriously, I ask all my married friends…don’t you miss those? Don’t you miss not having any plans for a weekend and just lazing around doing nothing? Don’t you resent your weekends having changed into 2 more days of a different sort of routine? Don’t you miss the pleasure of reading a much-awaited bestseller all through the night without having to ignore those disapproving glances from the man in the bedroom? I think these are little luxuries. Or better, rewards that I have earned for myself. I deserve more of these. Sure, say my married friends. You still have time for yourself. And you are still who you want to be. But isn’t there a slight shift, an invasion somewhere?

I think its best to put it this way: Marriage has its charms, I am sure, but I am yet to reconcile myself with that secession of space that it demands or deserves. One day, may be…who knows. Till then, let me have the pleasure of enjoying ungodly hours, lights on at 3 AM, no question marks, lots of  cuss words and infinite space.

 

An ode to the other man ;)

So much has been written about the other woman….huh? About how she wrecks relationships and how she breaks families. So much has been said about how a woman becomes an ardent enemy of another, just because they both end up falling for the same man….so much has already been said about them.

Now an ode to the “other man” in any love triangle or complicated relationship. I broke up with an ex because I was caught, well…cheating on him. He caught me with the ‘other man’ on the eve of our engagement and how! We, that is me and this ‘other man’, were locked in a passionate lip-lock and his hand was inside my shirt after he had undone the top two buttons. So you can very well imagine what a sight that could be. Stop you dirty minds, am not trying to entice you through my ‘fifty shades of pink’ epilogue. Oh I was blushing then and so was this other man…we were both blushing and were embarrassed to many shades of pink and red and even burgundy.

This other man, let us refer to him as the jerk for now, came in to my life virtually. Oh no…not through a sleazy chat room but via mail. He used to work with the same organization albeit at a different location. He was married and I was about to get engaged and there we are exchanging official mails and coordinating as spocs on different projects under the same vertical. Before I know it, we were friends and texting away jokes. Our personal email ids and facebook profiles were added to each others contact details and even long after the projects were over and done with, we were still on. He had not met me and neither had I. He knew I was about to get engaged and I knew he had two kids while his wife was expecting a third one! She was away at her mom’s and he was lonely. He comes to my city and we end up in bed, not once but thrice.

He goes back but our tryst still continues. Stolen kisses, stolen moments and mails and texts…I wonder how I did not get caught earlier considering that I was so close to my fiance and was definitely in love with him to accept that solitaire. I wonder what was I thinking when I cheated on him and because this jerk was definitely not my scene or my type. I never ever wanted to fall in love or have an affair with a married man and a three time father at that. Anyway, I slipped and not only did I end the affair, I quit my job, and lost this cute guy I was going to get engaged to.

The other man is as dangerous as the other woman. Keep away from him. He comes into your life, when you least suspect it. Sways you off your feet and then behaves as if his world revolves around you and only you. You forget how you should behave and look zoned out and drugged most of the time. You willingly take risks which seems insane to your friends and you take these risks with elan. You forget your duties, your career, your friends and your responsibilities….but hang on…thankfully, this does not last. You are bang on your feet as soon as it started and no matter how much you want to turn back the clock, the damage is done.

Women….beware of such passionate relationships and let me tell you…anything that sways you off your feet is not good for you. Stay away from men who tell you they love you more than their wives or girlfriends or moms…coz am sure these men would be repeating these very lines to someone else before you say the word go! My dear friends…you unsuspecting souls….remember love and sex is but related to hormones and believe me, if you always remember this, you will never ever take a wrong turn or decision in your life!

Your sincerely, Jamini @gladamawoman

 

Musings….still….

“At some point, you gotta let go and sit still, and allow contentment to come to you.” -

Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love

 

 

Just because we forgive someone doesn’t mean we invite them to stamp on our feelings again…

If we feel wronged or hurt, it is generally because of our expectations from people who matter(ed). Forgiving them should always be followed by moving on. If we forgive them, and then we hold on for long, it would mean we still hope or expect something in turn. This could even lead to them misunderstanding us and taking us for granted. Learning to say, “no” is very important. Say ‘No, I will not be taken for granted…I don’t want to hold on…I don’t want to talk about the past…it does not matter anymore…’

And yes, it really shouldn’t matter to you, else the whole act of forgiving will not be followed by moving on. Life is so beautiful and so are we. Always remember….we deserve to be happy…you and I. Life was never expected to be easy but we have to learn how to cope and succeed in spite of it all.

If someone matters, take the time out to say a ‘hello’ and ask about their well-being. This is an allowance which you can enjoy for the people who matter and whom you still want in your life. But whenever you feel, the conversation or situation is going out of control or is turning ugly, move away. It’s okay to move away. Sometimes moving away brings you closer to yourself. It allows you to view things from the right perspectives and just because you stop walking hand in hand with someone, it does not mean, you stop caring for them. It just means you have learned to cope and move on with your life.

Try to not start hating just because you could not love. I am trying that too. My marriage and relationship left me exhausted. But then, for my sake, I gathered the pieces again and learned to be happy again. I can now focus better. I need not worry about phone calls, mails, conversations, envious situations, fights and misunderstanding. I can go out late in the night, get drunk, enjoy a girl’s night out with my friends, flirt harmlessly, wear what I want to, spend as much as I like …

I am happy and I am me. I refuse to be bound to anyone, except to my children. My children, once they are able to stand on their own feet, would fly away to their destinations and then I would be free again. Free to pamper my very being.

Till then, I am bound to them and I enjoy my time with them. I love them selflessly and enjoy watching them grow. I would have been incomplete without them. They are my courage, my self esteem, my life! Seema, today is truly without any boundaries…am free, I am happy and I am me. Don’t you wish to be like me?

 

Let go…..

 

I feel lighter today…after letting it go and pass away. A bad relationship and a bad marriage can teach you a lot of things. This is just one of them. Learning to let go… My ex-husband, the day he was caught cheating on me for the second time, had indulged in this verbal duel, and he had cursed me, that I will always have to be ‘alone’. And at that, I’d retorted, I might be alone but I’ll never be lonely. Before you get confused, I am not Jahnvi, this is me Seema!!! Hello babes and I know I have not penned any thing in a long, long, time but then, I had been stressed out and stretched out emotionally! But now am all okay and here I am for the much needed tete-a-tete with you!

 

Yes, I am not lonely. I finally have my self and my lost self respect. It is another thing that I should not have started this relationship with another wimp of a person who just used me to give his massive ego a boost. But anyways, this has taught me a lesson I will never forget in life, respect comes first, love steps in much later.

 

I took this long sabbatical and read. I read a lot of soul-healing literature. Relocated to Mumbai, where my parents live, and where I had spend a better part of my youth before marrying this wimp.

 

Well…let me not indulge in self pity. I am now going to offer my experience to teach bright, young women to be sure of themselves before they ever give their hearts to someone. But yes, sometimes, it is not forever after and we all tend to make mistakes. So let us learn to forgive ourselves and then move on.

Who do I rate more, do you ask? Any day, my husband! He loves the children we made together and still has some kind emotions left for me for the ten odd years we spent with each other.