A LONE SOUL

Far From Happiness

Juhi returned with a cup of tea. "So darling, what's the matter... you are blushing!"

"Nothing," I smiled as I replied.

"How was your day?" Her voice was filled with excitement.

I grabbed a cushion and narrated the whole meeting about me and Zahir, and how I was surprised to find that he was so respectful and romantic at the same time. My expressions were rather loud in comparison to my words, which felt short that day. After tea, I returned to my place and was greeted by my kids, welcomed by my pets, and completely ignored by my husband.

I went straight to my room and took a bath. The water falling from the shower felt like drop of ecastasy that transported me back into zahir's lap. I closed my eyes and relived the moment that made me so happy after such a long period of time. I quickly came out of the room and went to the kitchen to cook the evening meal. I was still lost in the thoughts of Zahir when suddenly my phone started ringing. I picked up the call, and there he was.

"Hi, did you reach in time?"

"Yes, and you?"

He replied, "I have some work in Meerut, so I decided that I will stay today at my in-laws' and tomorrow I will leave."

I heard Prabhas coming up and disconnected the call, saying "we'll talk later." I was sure that Zahir would understand that someone was around.

Prabhas went to his room and sat next to the kids. I was serving the food when suddenly he received a call, and before I could enter the room, he left talking to someone, laughing and smiling.

I felt for a moment how unwanted I am in his life, that he is not even bothered to ask me where I was or how my day was. There was no connection that I felt between us anymore. Maybe I have had enough of giving in this single relationship that I was trying to save since the very first day of our marriage.

I ignored him and served my kids. We ate together, and I made them sleep early. I don't remember when exactly Prabhas came or went to the adjacent room to sleep. We were not sleeping together for years now. There were separate beds for us. What a strange thing it was, a relationship meant to keep two people together, had lost all its meaning. The pain that I have been through all these years has made me stronger, and I have become more of a fighter than a defender. I realize now how eleven years of marriage crumbled and shattered. It's not just the marriage of two people that matters; what I have understood is that it's the marriage of hearts that matters the most.

From the first night of our marriage, Prabhas's drinking became a constant presence in our lives. He would stumble home late, reeking of alcohol, his laughter echoing through the empty rooms of our house. Days turned into weeks, and still, he continued to spend his days and nights with his friends, squandering the money my parents had given us as a wedding gift.

I longed for a honeymoon, a chance to escape the suffocating confines of our home and explore the world together. But Prabhas had other plans, dismissing my requests with a wave of his hand and leaving me to cry alone in the darkness of our bedroom. One day, in a desperate bid to earn his affection, I asked him what I could do to convince him to take me out for a ride. His response was simple yet cruel—he ordered me to clean the entire house from top to bottom.

With a heavy heart, I set to work, scrubbing away the stains of neglect and loneliness that had seeped into every corner of our home. By the time evening fell, I was exhausted, my body aching from hours of labour. I cooked dinner, washed the dishes, and waited for Prabhas to return, hoping against hope that he would notice the effort I had put in. But when he stumbled through the door in the dead of night, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol, he paid me no mind. He collapsed onto the bed without so much as a word, leaving me to tend to him like a servant rather than a wife.

In the darkness of the night, I listened to his drunken snores, my heart heavy with a sense of loneliness that seemed to stretch on for eternity. And when he awoke in the middle of the night, disoriented and confused, and relieved himself in the corner of the room, I felt a wave of despair wash over me.

I spent hours cleaning up the mess, tears streaming down my face as I realized the depths of my loneliness. In that moment, I knew that my marriage was nothing more than a prison—a gilded cage from which there was no escape. And as I cried myself to sleep, I wondered if I would ever find the strength to break free from the chains that bound me to a life of misery and despair.................................................

Years rolled on, but Prabhas's affection remained distant. Despite my efforts, his gestures lacked warmth, leaving me to carry the weight of our marriage alone.

With Prabhas jobless, I took up tutoring to support our family. I worked tirelessly, ensuring he had the funds to chase his dreams. Even though it meant setting aside my own ambitions, I never wavered in my commitment to him and our son.

Every day was a whirlwind of chores and responsibilities. I cared for our son, managed the household, and focused on my tutoring job. Despite our fights, I kept my struggles hidden, shielding our family from the pain. Supported by my parents' financial help, I pursued a Bachelor of Arts degree privately. It was my way of reclaiming the education I had once set aside. Through it all, I drew strength from my love for my son and my determination to build a better future. Despite the challenges, I refused to give up, knowing that I was not just surviving, but fighting for a brighter tomorrow.

During my second year of B.A., I landed a job at a prestigious school in Meerut. It was a significant step forward, opening doors for both financial stability and personal growth. This opportunity allowed me to admit my son to the same school, ensuring a quality education for him. I took a small gold loan to cover his admission expenses, despite receiving no support—neither financial nor emotional—from Prabhas.