Our Mindset Episode 45
We had some tea and set off on the bicycle. My heart felt heavy. Even after seven years of marriage and two kids, no matter where we went, I always ended up feeling humiliated because of my husband.
Sensing my mood, Tejaswini stopped by a tree at the side of the road. “Let’s rest in the shade for a bit,” she said. “I also need to tell you something.”
She continued, “Vahini, people at our house talk about you too. You’re so beautiful, and this is the man you ended up with? Honestly, you two don’t even look like a match. And he’s not even loyal to you. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a month now, but Aaji told me not to interfere.”
“There’s a woman who lives behind our house — her name is Manisha. She stays alone. Her husband’s a tempo driver and hardly ever visits. Every Sunday, your husband brings her two huge bags of groceries. I heard Papa and Aaji talking — even with such a beautiful wife at home, he still goes to that woman. And Aaji said it’s not even a recent thing, it’s been going on for years. Even Balu told me he saw Dada shopping, but when he asked, Dada just said it was for Mami.”
I told Tejaswini I wanted to see what that woman looked like. Tejaswini said, “Vahini, if she fell into a pile of gravel, you wouldn’t be able to tell her apart from it!” Still, I needed to see her for myself.
We went to her place. She was sitting comfortably alone, watching TV. Tejaswini said, “I go to tailoring classes. If you have any blouse pieces, give them to me — I can practice on them, and I’ll stitch them for free.”
She said she didn’t have any blouse pieces left but would give them in a few days. I kept observing her. She wasn’t even half as good-looking as me. And yet, here I was — scrubbing and working in the market to keep our household running — while he was spending his money to keep her household afloat.
Tejaswini told me, “Vahini, don’t fight with Dada about this, or it’ll all come back to me. He’ll say I’m the one who told you.” I knew arguing with him wouldn’t change anything. But I could still scare him with the mention of my parents.
When I got home, I told him firmly — from now on, I won’t sit at the market, and I won’t go to work either. I’ll only attend tailoring class. You’ll have to take care of the house. If not, I’ll call my parents and ask them to step in.
I didn’t tell him what I’d heard in the village. At the garment class, we started by learning how to stitch shirts. Everyone was assigned different parts. I chose the pocket because the other parts seemed too complicated. Stitching the collar would’ve earned me more, but it was harder. There, they called it a “pocket.”
Back when my husband used to drop me off, no one dared to misbehave. But once I started riding the bicycle alone, people began to harass me as I passed by.
The two stray puppies someone had abandoned in our yard had grown up. They roamed around all day but would nap under the babool tree in the afternoon and evening. So, everyone assumed they were our dogs.
Then they started catching the neighbor Aaji’s chickens. Or at least that’s what she claimed. I never actually saw them do it, but she came and complained that our dogs were the ones responsible. I told her they weren’t ours — she was welcome to chase them away or even beat them if they came near her chickens again. But I also said, if those dogs really did eat chickens, wouldn’t they have started with ours first?