Marital Bliss

The first time I saw her, her face was a bloodied mess. All puffed up under the left eye, a spreading blue over the lips, dried tears cutting through caked blood on the cheek and under the nostrils, like dying rivers across a desert. Smell of stale urine. Torn clothing hastily covered by a bed-sheet. The neighbors that brought her in did the talking: she was far too weak.

"Its the husband". One of the men volunteered, to my questioning gaze.

"Again". Whispered one of the women, talking half to herself and half to no one in particular.

I had a rapid look-over. Detailed examination will have to wait. There was the face, with injuries suggestive of a fracture of the nasal bone or septum. The right hand was bend at an unnatural angle halfway between elbow and wrist, swollen and exquisitely tender; possibly a broken arm. Smell of urine, incontinence probably from a kick to the groin.

The woman was in far too serious a condition to be managed at the peripheral center where I worked. At least for the first 48 hrs, she'd have to go to a higher center. I gave first aid, filed a police intimation, and referred her.

She came again a few days later. There was a cast over the arm, and the nose was in a protective covering too. She had been referred from the Medical College, back to my care.

I could see, then, that she was a young woman, younger than I had somehow assumed her to be, last time. Perhaps younger than I had thought possible to have undergone so much unkindness.

We talked.

"Its usual. When he is home, that is."

"The neighbors tried to help, until he started threatening them too. Then we were left to our own fate. Me and the two kids, that is."

"He was particularly mad yesterday. I had sent the kids away to my relations, where they might have had a chance at schooling."

She hadn't consulted him, apparently. Not that it would've made any difference. As far as he was considered, the kids were an accident, a vague annoyance at most. But to have a decision taken without his permission, that was to his way of thinking an unacceptable challenge to his authority. It didn't matter that he never wondered how and when they ate or whether the roof was repaired before the rains. It didn't matter too, that he was away most part of the year, sometimes for weeks together, only to return in the middle of the night reeking of alcohol. The only times he would be reminded of his family, would be if and when someone tried to help his wife make ends meet, wherein he'd be reminded of his pride that his wife had let down.

Perhaps he was simply mad that the children might get an education.

"I really thought he was going to murder me that night. The neighbors thought so too, probably, for they came looking for me in the morning. I had dragged myself out of the house, but couldn't make it up to the road. I'd have died, if they hadn't come looking for me."

I told her about the police intimation that I had filled, and urged her to follow it up with a complaint at the commission for prevention of atrocities towards women. I must have sounded more confidant than I felt, for she was cheered up instantaneously. She had a face that lit up when she smiled, and even through all the pain, I could see that she was beautiful, once, before all this.

She was discharged a few days later. Not once did he visit her.

I saw her a few times more during the following weeks, seeking to ease the pain of a body destroyed by more abuse than one should have to go through in an entire life-time, and the hard labour of raising two kids all by herself. However crowded the OP was, she'd wait till she caught my eye and give me a smile, which I'd always acknowledge without fail. Then, slowly, she was seen no more, and I forgot the whole episode in due time.

The next time was the happiest I ever saw her. She had come to get a certificate attested, she said. The kids were away at her relations, and going to school. They were both working hard, and she hoped of putting them through college. She was being offered a job as sweeper somewhere now.

"Him"?

She had followed up the police intimation. But even before her complaint could be lodged, he had done everyone a favor by getting arrested for some petty offence, and was sent to jail for 3 months.

That was 4 months ago.

I saw her again today. The light had gone out of her eyes, yet again.

"He came looking for me after he was released. Created such a scene where I worked, that the employers asked me to leave, for fear of having him back. He tried to get me to go back and live with him, but I wont have any of it. Neither will I allow him to get to the kids. He has threatened to hurt me, and I know he is perfectly capable of doing that."

She opened up her handbag, and after ensuring that no one was watching, showed me the kitchen knife she was carrying.

"I've a surprise ready for him, though. He wont hurt me or my kids for long now. I am waiting for him to show up".

I was shocked out of my trained calm demeanour. Too shocked to think coherently, I think I tried to say something. I am sure it must have come out non-sense.

She had a different air now: a confidence that terrified me.

"You are a good man, doctor" she said.

"But you are young. There are things you don't realize quite well as yet"

I knew she was not that old herself, but today was not the day for arguments.

"I know you could call up the police about this, but I don't think you would. Besides, do you think anyone gives a damn if I kill the bastard or he kills me?"

I tried to say something. She raised her hand to stop me.

"Please give me something for the back-pain, it has worsened this past week. I have difficulty getting up from bed in early mornings."

I wrote out an injection, two types of tablets, and one ointment of which I had a sample that I gave to her.

I sat there wishing there was something more I could do.


(slightly fictionalized)