Chit Chat 002 : Divorce and "Kiran"

KIRAN’S STORY

(part of the chit chat series. listen below)

**Names have been changed to protect the persons involved. 

I sit here with my first story for fat madame and instead of feeling excited for finally having content to add and share, I feel stuck. With guardianship over someone else’s story I have the overwhelming task of giving it a voice. How do I do this effectively and respectfully? 

When I first set out to launch fat madame, the hook was “homemade Indian recipes and tales of love.” This is about divorce; a split from a marriage borne out of a handshake. Kiran, at 19 years old and Teji, at 24, were bound by an arrangement between a “someone who knows someone” and “a well to do family” that 14 years later would hit a boiling point and falter. Death by subservience and abuse. 

While in India for her sister’s wedding, Kiran agreed to meet prospective partners - you know, a casual introduction by your mom. She expected the requisite how do you do’s filled with awkward smiles and a careful exchange of rehearsed biographical facts of the boy. She had no idea that agreeing to an introduction was a silent auction of her youth. At 19, Kiran knew little of love and self-awareness by way of experience and that first encounter was an unremarkable series of politeness expected in such moments. Kiran and Teji were married just two days later.

Kiran left India to go back to America, a stranger much to herself in a lifetime commitment to another stranger. Teji was on standby in India waiting impatiently to get his green card. He was unhappy in his career and this was a golden ticket escape. Kiran’s parents went home from that trip, checking the greatest, most burdensome box of seeing both of their daughters settled in wedlock. 

But as swiftly as the marriage was arranged between Kiran and Teji, it was introduced with alcoholism and varying forms of abuse. Teji had a problem that started well before marriage and was exacerbated by the unquestioning support of his parents and siblings who stood witness to the ongoing belligerence towards Kiran. Still loyal as ever to one another, when at the worst, it left Kiran unconscious and rushed to the ER with a blackened and bruised chest. 

She stayed in and carried on. 

Couples fight. Couples have secrets. Be quiet. Be respectful. Allow him his space for dominance. We have two children. My needs as a woman are secondary to his. A woman binds the family together. What will people think?

He hurts me, but I still love him.

And so on and so forth for 14 years the convincing mind triumphed over the weak heart. 

When I asked Kiran, during our interview, what dictated a good and bad day, she said that as long as she did what he wanted, it would be a good day. There was no room for her opinions or otherwise frank and bubbly personality. He got drunk. Often. And not just in private. Whether Teji would phone her brother at two in the morning cursing him in drunken stupor or directed that aggression towards her, a proximity that incited an ugly physicality, Teji called the shots. Over the years, he convinced Kiran that her parents were the root cause of every conflict basking in a victory as her ties with them became fragile and fraught with guilt. The distance from them kept her dependence on him. The year his father was ill, Teji sent Kiran to India for 3 months to take care of him. When Kiran was to return, the flight home was to an entirely different state, on the opposite coast, where Teji had silently relocated with the kids in her absence. He sent her away, he switched jobs, he uprooted the family, he called the shots.  

And each time she silently conceded, she became some other, unlikeable version of herself. The reasons to leave were aplenty but the excuses were fuller. Time went on and the years went by in this vain. Teji monitored and managed Kiran’s weekly income, he expected her to clean and cook for his mother in her own home despite Kiran’s job as a nurse, their own two children whom she nurtured almost exclusively and her own expectant role as wife and homemaker.

There was an unhappiness that underlined Teji’s energy. Something had happened to him, it must have, for that unkindness begged for an outlet. It begged to be released and healed by the Universe. To some degree Teji understood that he lived with this faceless aggravation, this grievance because in a bizarre twist of events, it was Teji who asked for a divorce.

After another one of his weekly flare-ups (Kiran wanted the whole family to visit her parents, but Teji refused and also forbade their children to visit), out of the blue and much to Kiran’s surprise, Teji asked Kiran if she wanted a divorce. She was taken aback, and without a flinch, the word “no” blurted out. Convincing herself daily with glimpses of happiness and hope, she was able to make this awful situation a normality so much so that she chose to stay when asked point blank for a way out. 

Some nights later, Kiran was awoken from deep sleep by a slap in the face. Yes, Teji slapped her. In her sleep. And when Kiran awoke, Teji pushed her against the backboard of the bed and began yelling degrading words. As if an outer-body experience, Kiran called for their barely teenage son to dial 911 for fear of her life. Teji’s parents, who now both lived in a home nearby happened to be staying the night. And once again their silence was piercing as the police came and left flagrantly deeming the situation as no real threat or danger.

That morning Teji and his parents got ready as usual and left the house. Another day was all it was to them. As if it were planned all along, this open escape, Kiran wasted no time packing her things and taking her children to a friend’s place. She finally initiated the divorce.

I would have thought it to be a bitter end considering Kiran’s unlucky journey in marriage. She has every right to be devastated, angry and resentful towards her ex-husband. The truth is, in my 90 minutes chat with Kiran, I never felt once that she had real animosity towards Teji. She was not self-righteous or particularly woeful about time wasted in that 14-year marriage. For all the reasons before, that she stayed in and carried on in the abusive relationship, the shame did start to sit heavy. Her friendship circle shrank as community members gave their two cents, recklessly placing blame on her for being strong-headed. Strong-headed? Oh yes, after filing for a divorce, Teji cleared out her inherited jewelry from the bank lockers, promising to give it back to her if she would come back to the marriage. She did not so he did not.

Still, she encourages her children to maintain a relationship with Teji and his parents; wanting her children to gain whatever positive they can from having a father figure in their lives. She explains that it is not up to her to decide to take that away from her children just because the she and Teji could not learn to live with one another in a happily ever after.

When I asked what advice she would give her children about relationships, she says that she wants her children to be honest and respectful. “If you don’t respect someone [then] you can’t be true to yourself or them. You don’t work for something unless you respect it and really want it.” 

And hey, marriage is work. How hard the work is depends on how much one another nurtures a mutual respect.