Monsoon Clouds - 13. Divorce
Chapter 13: Divorce
13.1 The Truth Behind His Distance
Our third wedding anniversary. I couldn’t believe three years had already passed—three long years in which we still hadn’t understood each other. I wanted to erase everything and begin again. I told Rajesh exactly that. He seemed indifferent but didn’t object. I asked him to come home early so we could visit a temple and pray for a happier married life.
But some things in life never change—and Rajesh was one of them. As usual, he came home late, completely drunk. I tried hard to control myself, but the anger inside me was ready to explode. Still, I held it back. That night, I decided I could no longer stay silent. I needed answers.
“You are so warm and friendly with everyone,” I asked him, struggling to keep my voice steady, “but when it comes to me, you behave completely differently. What mistake did I make? Why do you treat me this way?”
He looked at me without any expression. His face was swollen from drinking, his eyes red like burning coal. When he didn’t respond, I repeated softly, “Please… speak up.”
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, his voice slurred but strangely calm.
I nodded, my heart pounding with curiosity and fear.
He began to speak.
“When I first came to Chennai, I stayed as a roommate with my senior, Raghavan. He was a wonderful human being. He taught me not just work, but life itself. He treated me like his younger brother and took great care of me. After my father, he was the person I respected the most.
“He had everything—kindness, intelligence, a good heart—but one stubborn desire. He wanted to marry a beautiful woman. Everyone told him inner beauty mattered more, but he wouldn’t listen. He rejected many good proposals because of this one condition.
“Finally, he married Sumathi from his village. She was extremely beautiful but came from a poor family. Her father had passed away long ago, and she lived alone with her mother. Raghavan’s parents were against the match, but he insisted, and they finally agreed.
“He was overjoyed. He rented a good house, furnished it fully, and did everything possible to make Sumathi happy. I moved out but stayed in touch—we met at work and often at his home.
“Sumathi knew Raghavan had married her for her beauty, and she used that power over him. She spent hours admiring herself in the mirror. Raghavan did all the household work—cooking, cleaning, washing. He bought her everything she wanted: sarees, cosmetics, jewelry. He never let her cry, never said no. Whenever people praised her beauty, he felt proud, as though her beauty was his greatest achievement.
“One of Raghavan’s friends, Sunil, worked in television serials. He used to visit occasionally. After the marriage, his visits became frequent—even when Raghavan wasn’t at home. I warned Raghavan indirectly, but he trusted Sunil blindly. He said Sunil was like his brother.
“It didn’t take long for the truth to surface. One night, Sunil and Sumathi ran away together, taking cash and jewelry. Unable to bear the betrayal of his wife and best friend, Raghavan committed suicide.
“We tried to trace Sumathi, but she was nowhere to be found. Fifteen days later, she returned—by then, everything was over.
“Sunil had promised her a career as a Hindi serial heroine, claiming to have contacts in Mumbai. He took her to producers who demanded favors. When she refused, Sunil spent all the money and jewelry and planned to sell her into a red-light area. Somehow, she escaped with someone’s help.
“Only then did she realize the goodness of Raghavan and feel guilty for what she had done. But by then, it was too late. Society turned against her. The same beauty everyone admired now became a curse. She couldn’t bear the hatred and disappeared. No one knows whether she is alive or dead—no one even cared.
“That incident destroyed me. It took me months to recover. Losing Raghavan and seeing how his life ended shook me deeply. That day, I decided I would never marry. And even if I did, I would never marry a beautiful woman.
“But my father had given his word to your father. I couldn’t break it. So I married you—without interest. Because I believed one day you too would leave me, just like Sumathi left Raghavan. That’s why I kept my distance and never got close to you.
“Now that you know the reason, don’t bother me anymore. Do whatever you want.”
He walked out of the room without waiting for my response.
I wanted to tell him that not every woman is like Sumathi. I wanted to tell him that I respected him as my husband and had never intended to betray him. But it was too late. He was in no state to listen or understand.
Sleep escaped me that night. Raghavan’s tragic story filled me with sorrow, and I finally understood how deeply it had scarred Rajesh’s life. Yet I was lost—unsure how to reach him, how to heal this marriage, or whether it could ever be healed at all.
Do I have to live like this forever?
Who will solve this problem?
What should I do? What can I do?
Only questions remained—without a single answer.
* * *
13.2 Life Moves On, Ours Stands Still
Maybe time had paused for us—but the world around us never did.
Ravi bought a spacious 4BHK villa in the US and soon welcomed a baby boy into his life. He invited Mom and Dad to visit and stay with him, but they were not interested. Around the same period, Dad, Rama Rao uncle, and Satya uncle retired one after another, each within a month’s gap. With his retirement benefits, savings, and additional support from Ravi, Dad bought a 2BHK independent house in Hyderabad, with Rama Rao uncle’s guidance.
Vamshi and Sandhya were blessed again—this time with a baby girl, Ananya, a little sister for Ayush. After retirement, Rama Rao uncle moved out of the village to look after his agricultural lands, though they still owned large houses there. Every year, they spent six months in the US with either Sandhya or Satish. Satya uncle, too, immersed himself in farming, finally devoting time to what had always been his true passion.
Life kept moving forward for everyone.
Except for us.
In our home, nothing changed—only silence or fights, endlessly repeating. I felt guilty taking money from Satya uncle, but I had no other choice. Rajesh neither gave me money for household expenses nor allowed me to work. In his mind, a working wife meant the possibility of an affair, yet he had no concern about how the house would run without money.
Things became worse when he got completely drunk. His friends would drop him home, and the way they looked at me made my skin crawl. Sometimes, their stares were so disgusting that I felt like screaming. Once, I gathered the courage to tell Rajesh not to drink to the point where he couldn’t even return home by himself. I suggested that if he wanted to drink, he could do so at home. I also told him about his friends’ behavior.
It backfired.
He accused me of encouraging them.
At times, the words he used against me were so cruel that I wondered how I was still alive after hearing them. I often asked God why He wouldn’t take my life and free me from this endless misery. And then I answered myself—maybe this was my punishment for past mistakes, and maybe this was a burden I was destined to carry.
* * *
13.3 When the Word I Feared Found Me
For the first time in my life, I heard a word I had never imagined would enter my world—not even in my dreams.
I was speaking to Sandhya, the only person who truly knew everything about me. I never shared the full truth with Mom and Dad, mindful of their age. Sandhya knew every detail of what was happening between Rajesh and me. In the middle of our conversation, either unintentionally or carried away by emotion, she said something that shook me deeply.
“What is the point of continuing a life like this? Don’t you know people take divorce?”
Her words stunned me.
“What are you saying, Sandhya? How can you even think of that? Maybe it’s
common in the US, but not here. I agree Rajesh hurts me, but he isn’t a bad
person.”
She didn’t argue, but spoke calmly. “Then tell me—what happiness are you getting out of this marriage? Neither of you is happy.”
“Being with my husband itself is happiness,” I replied. “Nothing is greater than that.”
“My words may hurt you,” she said gently, “but think about it. There’s no point in staying with someone and suffering every day.”
“What about my parents? What about society?” I asked. “It’s not that easy.”
“Society doesn’t stand with you when you cry,” she said. “Yes, it matters—but you matter too. Aunty and Uncle may be hurt at first, but they will understand.”
Still, I couldn’t accept it. “No matter what you say, I don’t think it’s the right option.”
“It may not feel right,” she replied before disconnecting the call, “but right now, it’s the only option. Think about it.”
That word—divorce—began echoing in my ears, my heart, and throughout the house. I didn’t even know why I was thinking about it. Questions flooded my mind without answers. What would I do after a divorce? Where would I go? How would my parents react? Would they accept it? What would Rajesh think? Would he agree? What would people say? How would relatives react?
Overwhelmed and exhausted, I finally convinced myself that divorce was not the right choice, and that I should continue living the rest of my life like this—with Rajesh.
That night, Rajesh came home fully drunk, and a major fight broke out. Perhaps because my mind was already heavy with thoughts of divorce, I lost control of my emotions and blurted out, “If you have so many problems with me, why don’t you give me a divorce?”
“Okay, if you want to,” he replied coldly and walked away—as if it meant nothing.
I collapsed to the ground. He didn’t question me, didn’t react, didn’t even care. It felt as though he was relieved to get rid of me. In that moment, I realized Sandhya had been right. From outside, she could see what I couldn’t while living inside it.
His words—“Okay, if you want to”—kept ringing in my head. What did he mean by that? Did he think I had an affair? Did he believe I wanted to escape him? Or did he simply not care enough to stop me?
Sandhya’s words and Rajesh’s response left me restless for days. I fell sick, and he didn’t even bother to ask how I was. I took medicine on my own and slowly recovered. That silence made one thing painfully clear—I was nothing more than furniture in that house.
After all the inner turmoil, I accepted what Sandhya had said. Divorce was not just an option anymore; it felt like the only one left. At least then, I could live life on my own terms. There was no meaning in carrying the title of a wife when Rajesh was my husband only in name.
When I shared Rajesh’s response with Sandhya, she said his acceptance actually made things easier. “Now,” she said, “only one thing is left—making others understand.” I decided I would speak personally to Dad and Satya uncle. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I felt strong enough to face it.
I went to my parents’ house without informing Rajesh. He wouldn’t have cared even if I had. Mom and Dad were surprised to see me, but they assumed it was due to another fight. They never expected the storm I carried within me.
I first tried to prepare Mom, sharing some of what was happening between Rajesh and me. As always, she repeated the same old advice—that a wife should adjust, understand her husband, never speak against him, and always try to keep him happy.
Then I spoke to Dad. His response, too, followed a familiar pattern of instructions and endurance.
I began opening up more, slowly revealing the depth of my pain. They grew sad, questioned fate, and wondered why such things always happened to me. I could see a slight change in them, but I didn’t have the courage to say the word divorce. Watching their mental state, I realized they might never be able to accept it.
And once again, I felt trapped—between truth and fear, courage and responsibility.
* * *
13.4 When Truth Spoke Louder Than Plans
Finally, I came up with a plan—to let the thought of divorce come from Rajesh himself. I told Dad about our last major fight, carefully avoiding the topic of divorce, and made it clear that I did not want to go back again. I knew Dad would never agree to this easily and would try to reason with Rajesh. Since emotions were already running high, even Mom insisted on coming along, which I believed would help keep things calm.
I felt guilty for dragging my parents into this at their age, but there was no other way left. The three of us traveled to Chennai without informing Rajesh. This time, I decided not to shield him or justify his behavior. I wanted my parents to see his true colors.
When we reached the house, it was in complete chaos. Empty bottles were scattered everywhere, things lay strewn about as if the place had been looted, and the kitchen was bare. The stench in the house was unbearable. Mom and Dad stood frozen, unable to believe what they were seeing. For me, it was nothing new.
Slowly, I could sense a change in their mindset, and deep inside, I felt a quiet relief—my plan was beginning to work.
As usual, Rajesh came home fully drunk. By then,
Mom and Dad had gone to sleep, as it was already very late. Assuming I had come
alone, the first thing he said after entering was,
“Hope you enjoyed a lot with your boyfriend. Why did you even come back? I
thought you left with him forever and would never return.”
Dad was still awake. He heard every word clearly and walked into the hall. Rajesh was shocked to see him. Perhaps out of respect, or maybe fear, he lowered his eyes, trying to cover up what he had just said.
Dad could no longer control his anger. He demanded an explanation for Rajesh’s words. Rajesh remained silent. Dad continued questioning him, but there was no response. Hearing the raised voices, Mom joined them. Rajesh finally lost control, and the argument escalated to an extreme level. In a fit of anger, he declared that he no longer wanted to live with me and that he wanted a divorce.
The word divorce hit Mom and Dad like a bomb. They couldn’t believe what they had just heard. They never imagined things would reach such a point. Both of them became emotional and started pleading with Rajesh. Watching my parents beg someone like him shattered me. I couldn’t take it anymore and told them that I, too, wanted the divorce.
They were stunned. Mom turned towards me in disbelief, while Dad tried once again to reason with Rajesh.
Sandhya had already informed Rama Rao uncle and aunty about the situation, so they came to Chennai the very next morning, fully aware of everything. The next few days were filled with endless discussions—arguments, explanations, emotional breakdowns—one-on-one conversations and group talks in every possible combination. Satya uncle also joined the discussions.
After days of intense deliberation, the elders finally arrived at a decision. They suggested that Rajesh and I live separately for six months. According to them, this distance would help us understand the value and importance of marriage, and eventually, we would reunite.
Both Rajesh and I knew deep inside that it wouldn’t work. Still, to respect the elders’ decision, we agreed. It was decided that I would stay for three months at my parents’ house and the next three months at my in-laws’ place.
I felt relieved. At least I would be spared from Rajesh’s cruel words for a while. And somewhere within, Rajesh too seemed relieved—free from me, for now… and perhaps forever.
* * *
13.5 Six Months, One Truth
As per the agreement, I completed the first three months at Mom’s place. She did her best to make me understand the importance of married life and the dignity of being with one’s husband. She spoke from her beliefs and experiences, but her words no longer had any impact on me. Dad didn’t interfere much; he only said one thing—make sure you take the right decision.
The next three months at Satya uncle’s place passed peacefully. He took great care of me and often carried a sense of guilt. He believed that if he had spoken openly to Rajesh before the marriage and explained everything about Rahul, perhaps we wouldn’t have reached this stage. But some things cannot be altered. Fate follows its own path. If divorce was written in my destiny, even a marriage with Rahul might have ended the same way, for some other reason.
* * *
After six months, the same group gathered again, hoping to hear some positive news. But neither Rajesh nor I had changed our decision. It disappointed everyone, yet the truth had to be accepted.
Satya uncle took responsibility for the legal proceedings, believing it was better to settle everything clearly now than to face complications later. We visited the court a few times—days that felt dark and heavy. I had no allegations against Rajesh, except that he did not want to continue the marriage. Rajesh, on the other hand, made several allegations against me. I chose not to defend myself; there was no point in justifying anything anymore.
Satya uncle distributed his property—50% to Rajesh, 25% to Vani, and 25% to me. Even when I refused, he insisted. He also took only half of the jewelry, saying that if Rajesh remarried in the future, he did not want the new bride to feel deprived.
Dad transferred the house to my name, as Ravi had no interest in returning to India, and even if he did, he wouldn’t live there. Sanjana was unhappy with the entire situation and wanted to limit Ravi’s involvement, making sure we wouldn’t depend on him—which we didn’t need to anyway. Dad was hurt by Ravi’s behavior and stopped speaking to him, though Ravi still called occasionally to talk to Mom.
Since it was a mutual decision and there were no children involved, the case moved smoothly. In the end, the court officially declared our DIVORCE.
* * *
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