The "Modern" Woman!

                I went to an all women police station to give a complaint against my (ex) husband who had the habit of beating me up black and blue. My complaint was not taken instead I was given a lecture about the uniqueness of the station. Their job is not to break up couples but to unite them, I was told. The frequent visits to the police station and to the court,  if I filed a complaint  was brought to my notice. It frightened me. I was in severe pain already and I was emotionally wounded too.  

                He was called and they talked to him, hearing out his problems with me (spending money for lipstick, going to the mall without making dinner for him, going to watch movie alone at night...) All these made them look at me differently. I don’t blame them because they were brought up to think like such things are wrong for a woman to do. The day ended there. We were asked to come the next day. The next day I went there straight from work. The way I was treated made me feel horrible. A woman in uniform looked at my accessories and made sarcastic comments. The lady in charge  asked me with a smirk  “Do you work in a co-ed college?”  I was judged by the lipstick and the neck piece I was wearing!

          Had I gone there with torn clothes and messed up hair may be they would have sympathized with me. I was calm and composed, not because I was okay, but because I had no life left in my body or in my mind then. So unknowingly I had given them the wrong impression of a “modern” woman.  They expected some one uncontrollably weepy or someone who verbally attacks the husband who has done wrong. But there I was sitting with a heavy heart listening to the load of shit he was telling them about me.

            I had confused my neighbors too. They hear me crying in pain at night when he attacks me. The next day they see me leave the house and come back with a big bag of pizza or something. Modern woman!

              I was expected to sit and cry in darkness for the life that I had.  I did that too, but only for a few minutes right after the attack. Then when the sun rises I see the new day and do my stuff.  After seven years of experiencing the same thing over and over again I got used to it. I no longer talked back, or cursed or left the house or cried. At one point nothing he did made me to react.

              This one time after thrashing me, he started abusing me verbally, I was still quiet and  not even a drop of tear fell from my eye. He spat on me and left. I got up went to the bathroom, washed my face, and did what I had to do next. I didn’t want him to win. I didn’t want to crumble down, not at least in front of him. I didn’t want that dark force to affect me. This could not be understood by all.

              Even now when people come to know that I live alone they tell me that I should have stayed with him for the sake of my daughter.

          Going to watch a movie, or eating out , or living alone are not signs of showing others how “modern” I am. Sometimes only those things give me peace!