अनकही #05

10 PM in the night and the air outside is thick and moist, and it looks as if it is going to rain. But none of these harsh conditions affects the family inside. As if contrasting the weather, they are warm and calm. There is the children’s father tucking them in bed, telling them stories of faraway castles and fairies and princes. Then there is their mother, Sita, finishing up the calculations for the budget of the month on the table outside. In the world of numbers and steady work, she is happy. In the middle of an approaching rainstorm, she is happy. 
 

At 26, Sita has already lived and seen nine more lives than she was supposed to. As a young girl, she had lost her parents to circumstances she did not wish to recall. And if the loss of the two people closest to her hadn’t already affected her enough, she lost her brother, her truest confidante, to uncles who conducted activities that were endlessly dangerous. By 11 years of age, she had been left all alone in this world. On her 13th birthday, she had been promised to a man almost double her age by her father’s sister and her husband. At 13, Sita had told me, she hadn’t even started menstruating, didn’t even know what it was, and was already expected to swiftly reproduce heirs for her husband’s family. At 13, Sita didn’t even know her body. But, at 13, her husband fully did. 

It was Sita’s utter innocence, and her tender age, that created trouble for her at her husband’s house. “I was so young and I hadn’t had anybody to teach me how to behave, or how to properly talk. I didn’t know anything about anything, but suddenly, I was expected to have known everything,” Sita shared with a laugh, her dimples clearly visible when her mouth stretched. This is why she had started getting hit, by her brother-in-law, her sister-in-law, her niece and nephews-in-law, her mother-in-law and her husband— everybody in the house, and everybody was older than her. In the first year of her teens, Sita recalled, she had been so lazy, always wanting to sleep. Every day she would eat her dinner and go to sleep, every day she was abused because of that. “My mother-in-law would tell me that now that I am married, it is my job to cook for everyone, clean for everyone and do all the chores around the house. I was 13! Have you seen 13-year-olds today?”

Sita’s husband would get frustrated about his wife’s inability to be a good, diligent housewife. “I couldn’t cook, I had never cleaned a thing in my life. I would add water to the wrong things, forget to add salt, and it was spoiling the entire meal. I was so scared of messing up, of burning food, and then that is exactly what I would end up doing,” and so, she would get bashed by her husband for being imperfect. Sita would also get violently screamed and cussed at, discovering for the first time the existence of such crude language. 

When asked if she ever told anyone that she was experiencing violence against her, Sita shook her head a firm no. I asked her why, and she confessed that she never had anyone to support her, never had anyone stand by her, forget to stand up for her. And she had explained it with such a beautiful metaphor, “In life, you have some shades, like the ones use to protect you against the scorching sun. These shades come in the form of people, who can protect you when things become hard to handle. They are usually in the form of parents or siblings and I had none. I had no shade to support me through the scorching heat, I got burnt. Eventually, I had to learn to handle the heat on my own” Sita’s married family were also Rajputs, known for their consistent respect towards others, which was another reason Sita did not want to tell anyone. She did not want to bring shame upon her family and did not want to be the reason they were defamed. 

Sita’s belief that violence can never end, and cannot be reduced, gravely shocked me. She told me that there will always be someone who knows less, and there will always be someone who wants to disobey and rebel. As long as both these groups of people exist, violence can never fully be terminated. “Helping people these days is also dangerous. They do not listen, do not hear. Just do what they want. So I also keep quiet and not interfere, because I have to think about my daughters also.”

Sita’s educational qualifications ended in the 5th grade and recently in these months, she had tried to get back into studying again. “I believe education is the key towards saving girls from violence. If they study and get skilled and then earn for themselves, they are making the right use of this body and of their mind. Not only will it make you happy, but also it will make you independent and self-reliant. You wouldn’t need anybody for survival, just yourself.” But for Sita, it has been getting extremely difficult to receive her degree now, with her husband’s business of tailoring failing. He does not get any orders, so she has to make sure of getting food on the table, along with taking care of the house. He can sit for months at the house without any work, and that puts all the responsibilities on her shoulders. 

Sita is no longer 13 now, but rather a grown adult who has learnt how to handle the situation in her house now. She is not insolent or disrespectful anymore, and, to her in-laws’ relief, she can cook and clean. Ever since her children have been born, Sita has not been abused. Her maturity and their peace and stability in the house, has led to neither parent creating a restless environment. Today, she is also the sole breadwinner for her house, earning a steady income of Rs 16,000 a month. Her husband takes care of the children and ensures that they are reaching school on time and sleeping at the right times. “We live happily now, which is very good for my kids. My daughter will not see what I have.” Today, every night, she goes to bed happy, and satisfied.