The Momma Clan

Thoughts racing in her mind, Riya gazed at the dark clouds that threatened to burst into droplets of rain. Her heart filled, tears rolled, wetting her face. Her mind rumbled with jibes, slaying her heart into pieces. Rohan, her husband, the love of her life, could utter such scornful remarks. She had never imagined.

It was a decision that they had taken together after the birth of their daughter, Misthi. Riya left her job and was busy with her newborn, playing the role of a good mother. She managed everything so well. Her house chimed in a happy rhythm, and no one noticed it.

Rohan remained engrossed in his office and became irritable day by day. The load in the office increased manifold. He slogged day and night with a firm belief in getting a promotion, but in vain. The game of politics and lobbies ruined his dream. However hard he strived, he could never reach his dream position. His peers, the less efficient ones, managed to cross him and go further, higher in the official cadre.

“Rohan, you are a hardworking guy, but luck is not favoring you.” His boss would say in their performance appraisal meetings. Frustrated and demotivated, he would walk out of the room. Rohan’s anger, frustration, and pain lingered in the corners of his mind, and he sought ways to vent out. Riya became a victim of this bottled anger and stress. Like rumbling dark clouds, they threatened to tear her apart into fragments. The melody of their marital bliss changed into a sharp, shrill noise of disharmony.

Riya had catered to every feeble need, trying to save the peace of her household. Until things turned ugly, impairing her self-respect. Rohan’s words pierced Riya’s soul; he belittled her for trivial things. His eyes questioningly mocked her abilities and called her a mere homemaker. “What do you do the whole day, eat and sleep.”
“When will you understand finances and the pressure I take.”

What load of work encompassed the gamut of a homemaker? Rohan was unable to comprehend.

Riya hurtfully bore the pain, ignoring those words. Her silence spoke volumes of pain, her heart buried. Deep inside, she felt her confidence dwindling, her worth gnawing her tender heart, and a dark cloud of gloom settling over her.

There were myriad questions rearing their ugly heads in her mind. She waited for the ray of sunshine to brighten the dark segments of her life, never knowing the Sun was within her, dormant and unearthed. Other’s approval, consent, and validation cannot aid one’s well-being until one believes in oneself. Self-love is a perennial source of fathomless love that garners the garden of colorful blooms.

I Hope Riya wakes up to the glowing Sun one day! Life will take a different course from then.

–Nibedita