Of Tales Untold

Iv been under a lot of stress for some time now. Im generally not the type to get bogged down by stress and create unnecessary tension for myself- although my husband completely disagrees- but I think Iv managed quite well. Until now. I know that lately I have been thinking of a lot of things and there is a lot on my mind- professional, personal, support system, in laws, parents but I thought everything was under control when just the other day a friend who knows me quite well turned around and told me I was nowhere close to the person she knew. I have always been very lively and jovial, trying to make a joke of everything in my life and laughing all my problems away. But it is only now that I hear myself so distinctly only cribbing and moping about everything in life, all the goddamn time- I spoke to a few people about this and surprisingly some of them told me to visit a counsellor. Well, I always believed that i could never pay someone to listen to me talk, but even my husband ( who refers to counsellors as shrinks and all doctors as quacks) turned to me and asked me to see someone for my stress. He said that a third person’s perspective might be useful and help me see things as they were and not blow them out of proportion. I think he did it for his own good because I know that Iv been driving him completely mad for the last few days. This set me thinking and took me on this huge roller coaster ride of all the emotional baggage I was carrying.
Iv always been quite good academically. Iv done quite well right through school and also decently enough through high school also. The okay and mediocre result in 12th was not because I had not studied but because the board was screwed. It was at this point in my life that I met M, my husband. And my life was on its biggest roller coaster ride ever. I got admission into one of the most prestigious Eng departments in India and just missed my first class in my Bachelors by a slight margin. And my parents went on this complete tangent. They never liked M from the very first day they met him. And for no reason. They just hated him because they thought he was intellectually not upto the par and would be a complete mistake for my life. And the person that I was – I stuck to him like a leech because I wanted to and at the same time revelled in doing exactly the opposite of what my parents wanted. They blamed him for my low grades in college and when I achieved a first class Masters degree, they blamed him again for not letting me study or otherwise I would have come First Class First. They hated the sight of him and made it very evident that he would have nothing to do with my life. To the extent that M did not walk into my house for the 9 years that we knew each other before getting married and my father once got onto a parallel line and abused his whole family when I was speaking to him. And till this day I completely credit M for not abusing my dad in return or showing them an iota of disrespect to this day. If I was in his place, not only would I have abused the parents, I would have stopped seeing the person for whom I was taking this bull crap.
It was soon that my parents realised that I was extremely serious about marrying M and I would do so even if it meant walking out of the house for good. My mom relented and agreed on a marriage date. However, M and me wanted to get married on the day we had started seeing each other and this day does not fall under the auspicious part of the year according to hindus. We still went ahead and got married ON THAT DAY AND IN MY HOUSE. My dad, of course, the actor that he is, walked out of the wedding in full view of the guests. We just had a very small gathering of 25-30 people over lunch and the ceremony was over. Everybody who wanted to be in my mom’s good books walked around the house looking like they had come to attend a funeral, instead of a marriage. It was thanks to a few close cousins and some sane friends and my happy in laws that I managed to go through the registry without abusing or killing anybody. Of course, my dad was on the phone with my mom because he wanted to come back home but wouldnt till I left. And even after we left for M’s house in the evening, some of my closest aunts caught my best friend and interrogated her about M and his family and whether he would beat me to death soon.
My inlaws were always fond of me and continue to be so till today. My Mom- in Law is not my emotional anchor, no doubt, but I know I can go crying to her about something her son has said and done and she wont waste a minute screaming at her son if he is indeed in the wrong. Today my dad loves M. Mom holds no conversation with him but makes it a point to cook him all the bengali dishes that he likes- it is so wierd. And this hypocrisy takes a toll on me. I am in some ways like my mom- she is extremely jovial and can be the life of the party. Some of my cousins got married recently and my mom was there laughing, singing, dancing and having a ball. My own marriage has not only made me bitter towards wedding ceremonies but I just stood there looking at my mom in amazement, wndering why she could not be as happy for me. It hurt real bad and just pushed me away even further from their world.
Today, when I sit back and think of all that Iv gone through, its probably not been even 1 per cent as bad as someone else’s life but its bad enough for me. Its made me a very bitter person and extremely cynical of things. And Im so scared that I wll become my mom. And to top it off, as I grow older, Im looking more and more like her. I never doubt the fact that they love me. I know they do but Im not ther ideal daughter. Because I didnt finish the Phd they always wanted to do- because i didnt get married to a doctor/engineer they could flaunt and because they cant tell me people what a lovely daughter they have. It does not make me sad- it makes me angry and hurt and te tears dont roll down from my eyes but sting them like they were needles poking through tight and taut shells. Everytime I dont succeed in life, whether its a quarrel with my doemstic help, or M, or whether I hate my job, or whether something I cook turns out a wee bit salty or slightly over cooked, I go down a few more notches in my own self esteem and hate myself for doing so…………… wish I could live again.

10 thoughts on “Of Tales Untold

  1. heya….my parents have made me feel the same way for the last 24 years of my life – until the day I got married – to their credit they did want the best for me and eventually loved my Evs, but it was the things at home – in ME personally that would make me feel like shit.I was never good enough a daughter for them, and when the unspeakable happened – they did support me, but have never fully forgiven me for not being the ‘ideal’ daughter. I don’t know what I can do to make them see that I am ME, not a mould of what they want me to be.As I get older, and just now being married – I am scared I’ll be like my mother and that’s one thing I never want to be.


  2. Don’t worry about turning into your mom – you’re in charge of who you become, not your past. A wise friend once told me that there are 3 sides to every situation – event, emotion and then reaction – if you can change the emotion, you can change the reaction.Apart from philosophizing as if i were 75 and had any right to philosophize to you ( for which, sorry, but I try and use this advice), I went thru’ the same thing with my marriage; after 4 years of opposition, finally we got married, with 6 people at the wedding, not counting the two of us, and the reception has excatly 3friends of my dad’s. Now A and he are good friends and we all live in the same colony – can you imagine?


  3. You know what?Thanks for being there- though i dont know most of you in person, it just feels amazing to know that someone out there understands.its a horrible feeling and today iv learnt to live with it- it bothers me still but doesnt affect me as deeply as it used to earlier.and like MM says….time heals- im hoping time moves fast and the wound heals- then maybe ill just learn to live with the scar!!!


  4. I can so relate to this post. Hypocrisy is embedded in our lives…we treat hypocrisy as a birth right and practice it with such diligence. I hate it. To your point about grand kids and all, here’s my take (very short, but came out of frustration):http://apple-bee.blogspot.com/2008/02/sick-of-it.htmlI keep thinking the same thing you said…would I be okay if they come around when I have grand kids? Does anybody even care how I feel if I’m thrown away like a piece of shit, but my babies are adorable? I can so relate to your post. But, in my case, there was no wedding. We went to the court to get married and my dad came to make sure I’m indeed married…he didn’t talk and he left as soon as the judge said “I pronounce you husband and wife”. I don’t know why he came…I so wish he didn’t. I think I need therapy too. I just have so much built up inside me and I don’t know how to get it out…I cry often in private, but what does that get me? More depression :-(I’m waiting for time to heal…


  5. Just saw your link in MM’s blog.”wndering why she could not be as happy for me”That’s cos of ego sweetheart. It’s not you…it’s them. Not trying to say parents are villains. But they don’t ALWAYS know what’s good for you. And you know why you won’t turn into them? Because you already don’t like what they do…and that itself makes you different from them.Stop feeling guilty for trying to be happy! That’s what everyone should be doing in the first place!


  6. hey, here from MM’s blog.My story is exactly like yours, only our parents weren’t at our wedding.At least, yours are reconciling to the fact that you’re living life your way. I do know that the day they realize the fact that their daughter is happy and more important than the relatives and the neighbors they’ll come around. Till then let’s try to understand that they’re a different generation with different attitudes and let them be. good luck!


  7. It is so sad-making to read this post. Of course, I’m also here from Mad Momma’s blog.Maybe therapy will help. Has blogging about it been cathartic?I remember reading something long ago- a young child sees the great author Victor Hugo sitting on a bench, throwing pebbles into the sea, and asks him what he’s doing throwing stones. The great man replies, These are not just stones, I am throwing self pity into the sea. My dear, try to get rid of this heavy burden of resentment that you are carrying. As coffeerocks said, your parents’ issues are to do with their egos, not anything to do with you.Chin up, and all the very best.Strange coincidence, today’s the day I write a post about how parents need to let their kids find their own partners!


  8. Im writing this more than a year after I wrote the post.It has been long and I was hoping that time would heal…but nah!!! nothing of the sort.Parents were down to spend some time with M and me because dad has been very unwell and needed a change- so on this trip they decided they had enough of being mean to their SIL and that now it was time to be nice-so thwy went the whole hog- buying him gifts, cooking his favourite dish and all that- but continued to be mean to me telling me how i had no values/ethics- how i let them down- but at the back of my head I was thinking that yes they were trying to be nice atleast to M if not to me…and forgiving them for what they werre doing to my brains.But they go back home and the first thing I get is a phonecall where mom says…M is nice but he has no culture…maybe you should teach him some, so he can come up to our level…WTF???Now i know…NOTHING CHANGES…NEVER WILL


  9. I chanced upon your space while blog-hopping…and stopped in my tracks. Your blog stands out because of the simplicity and honesty that reflects in your posts.

    Although my story is not the same as yours, I could understand what you’ve gone through. In some ways, it was therapeutic. Hope you find the peace that can only come from within.

    me: Hey Thought Bubbles…thanks for stopping by…and thank you


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s